


Hearts and Headstands

by Lisamc21



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Kilts, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25425337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisamc21/pseuds/Lisamc21
Summary: An AU (with some canon elements) that follows our beloved David and Patrick through the creation of Rose Apothecary and falling in lurrrrrrv. But this one includes a yoga retreat with kilts because why not? This is a slooow burn but it definitely burns when it gets there (that's why I put an E rating). This alternates between David's and Patrick's point of view.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 191
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

“There’s a bathroom in the back but it only has a curtain as a door. When the general store owner moved out, she took the door with her.” Ray, the man in Schitt’s Creek who held the record for the most jobs, ushered David back to the main space. “It must have held sentimental value.”

“Eww.” David kicked a can of green beans with sneakers that probably cost more than the lease.

“Nice of them to leave the curtain behind,” Wendy said. The woman always had something positive to say. David scowled. He didn’t need that kind of toxic positivity in his life.

“Is it?” He turned to face Wendy and tried to cut the sarcasm back a bit. “I don't know if this place will work. A curtain for a bathroom door? Can you imagine?" A full body chill rocked his body as though he stood naked in the Arctic instead of on the verge of sweating through his black leather sweater. 

Once ideas for his immersive brand experience had clawed their way into his mind, they hadn't let go. Like when Alexis had jumped on him the other day after seeing a spider crawl under her bed. She was lucky he hadn’t jumped in her arms first.

The empty general store sat at the heart of Schitt's Creek. If a town with one stoplight had a heart. Scratch that. Two stoplights after mom threw that fit on town council. 

Wendy looked at Ray and smiled. "How much is the lease?" 

Ray walked over to Wendy and handed her a piece of paper. The man only had one speed: ready to make a deal. 

"David, this is half of what I paid each month for the Blouse Barn. It’s a steal." She held out the paper to him.

He looked at Ray and forced a smile. "I'd have to steal the contents of a bank vault to get enough money to get this place to the aesthetic I have envisioned."

David walked toward a long brick wall painted white where he could imagine placing rustic shelves sparsely stacked with premier skincare placed in uniform rows liked soldiers with minimalist labels. Maybe a couple of wicker baskets with precisely folded blankets.

The bones of the place weren’t terrible. Already having white walls helped him view the place as a blank canvas. The flooring of wood panels in a rainbow of shades didn’t quite match the mood board he’d created, but he could adjust the color palette. 

Wendy waved a hand. "I have plenty of store furnishings left from the Blouse Barn. I'd be happy to give them all to you."  
David's hands shot up and his voice even higher. "God, no! Those busty mannequins aren’t coming anywhere near this place.” He eyed her. “I thought I sold all those."

She smiled sheepishly. "I have a storage unit I never told you about.”

David leveled a look at her. “You know how I feel about those bumpy beasts.

“Skanky?”

“Yes, skanky. But thank you for the offer,” he quickly added. He didn’t want to skank-shame a gift horse. 

"The scarf stands would fit nicely here and the giant jewelry rack. You're planning to carry handmade jewelry, right?"

"Mm," he said through tight lips. When Wendy offered to finance his idea, she had promised she would be a silent investor. One who was generously replaying his efforts to help her earn a fuckload of money off of her travesty of a business name. However, he began to worry their definitions of silent were very different. Particularly when she had insisted on driving over from Elmdale to see the space. She was silent like Alexis at that silent meditation retreat when she had kept hitting on an instructor.

"We'll take it."

David felt his eyebrows reach for the sky. "Wendy, I don't know if I'm—we're—ready to make that decision. I'm sure there are other spaces to look at." He looked at Ray expectantly.

There had to be. He didn't have the skills, time, or wardrobe to tackle the space. If only he had a hunky little handy person to flirtatiously boss around.

"Unfortunately, the only other commercial space available that's zoned for retail within twenty miles is downwind from a dairy, Ray said.

David's nose scrunched up. "Yeah, that's not going to work." Maybe that place had an actual bathroom door, though.

Wendy clapped her hands. "Work up the contract, Ray and I'll have my nephew take a look."

David's gaze snapped to Wendy. "Nephew?" He didn't want to have to deal with another person. Dealing with Wendy was more than enough, and he was more than a little terrified of the remaining branches in her family tree. David worked better when he rode solo.

“Like I said, I don't want to be an active part of the business.” Wendy held her hand up to her mouth and stage-whispered behind it. “I enjoy shopping for things like clothes, food, homes, retail locations.” She winked. 

They had that in common at least, though the results on such shopping excursions would be wildly different.

“I’d like my nephew to be my representative. Well, technically my step-nephew. He’s between jobs and is looking for something else.” He's staying in the apartment over my garage and is available to help you launch your business.”

Wonderful. 

“He could be your business manager!" 

"Excuse me, my what?!" David's hand clutched his chest.

"He studied business in school and is very smart.” Her wide smile softened, and she gave him a knowing look. “He'll balance your, um, creative tendencies."

David's jaw dropped. If he was so good at business, then why was he “between jobs” and hadn’t managed to save his aunt from the embarrassment that had been the Blouse Barn. Rest in peace. "I don't need a business manager."

Wendy smiled at Ray and then walked closer to David, lowering her voice. "I know you don't need the help, David. You proved how savvy you are when you scored me that Aussie deal. Think of it as doing dear Patrick a favor. He's had a rough time recently and this could really lift his spirits."

"Poor Patrick. But I really don't think this would be a good fit. I think it will just complicate things. And maybe we need to revisit the whole ‘silent’ partner thing." He held up his hand and shook his finger between them.

Wendy's lips widened, showing even more of her full set of chompers. "But David, I've asked for so little. Nothing, really. I'm just giving you this money as a thank you instead of giving it to my family. I really think Patrick could be of help to you."

David forced a smile. It hurt. His cheeks pinched and his eyes went so squinty she became a blurry blob. If he didn’t get the money from Wendy, he’d have to go back and beg for that bag boy job at the grocery store and he did not have that kind of emotional strength. Or—God forbid—work at the motel. If he had to pick up another condom that hadn’t quite made itin the trash can, he was going to lose it. "Of course, Wendy. I'd be happy to talk with him. Maybe he can help me fill out a form or two." 

"That's the spirit." Wendy clapped David on the back and he stiffened.

"Wonderful! I'll get the paperwork together and drop it by the motel." Ray beamed.

"I'll give Patrick your number so you can set a time to meet up."

"Mm. Wonderful indeed." What had he gotten himself into?

#

“I’ve got some good news,” Wendy said as she sat a plate covered with tinfoil on the TV tray he used as a dining table. 

Patrick’s stomach rumbled as soon as the aroma of Wendy’s famous (frozen) lasagna hit him. He realized he hadn’t had breakfast or lunch while he had been so absorbed in trying to drum up a client. Normally eating was always top of mind with how much he liked to lift weights and hike. It seemed like he was always fueling up. Maybe loss of appetite was just one of the many side effects of questioning one’s entire identity.

He stood from the ancient swivel rocker and walked over to grab the food. “I always love good news.” He almost called her Aunt Wendy, but it didn’t sit right on his tongue. She and his uncle had only married a few years ago, and introducing an “aunt” in his late twenties had felt too weird. She didn’t seem to mind.

Patrick inhaled deeply after peeling off the foil. Frozen lasagna might be his favorite meal. He balled the foil up in one hand as he took a couple of steps toward the kitchenette to get a fork.

“I found you a job.” She clapped her hands together and did a little shimmy. The glitter on her red shirt reflected off his overhead light bulb. He needed to get a light cover or something, so it felt less like a prison cell in there. It didn’t really matter anyway since he wasn’t planning on sticking around Schitt’s Creek for much longer. It was a bit too close to his former life for comfort, and he knew a fresh opportunity would pop up in Toronto any day.

Patrick spoke through a mouthful of food. “What kind of job?” Given that the last “job she’d found him” had been as a cat sitter, he wasn’t holding his breath.

“I’m investing in a business with some money I got from that Australian company, and I’d like your help.”

He swallowed. “Involved?” Investing? As far as he knew, Wendy as his uncle had planned to use that money to buy a condo in Florida.

“I don’t want to build another business, but he needs someone more business-minded like you and I.” She gave him a conspiratorial wink.

Business-minded? Coming from the woman who had almost accepted a measly $10,000 offer from a multi-million-dollar corporation to buy her business name. Thank goodness someone had been around when he hadn’t been to make sure she had fought for more. He still owed that guy a thank you.

“What’s the business?” Patrick took another bite. 

“Some sort of experience?” Her face scrunched up.

“Like an escape room?” Now she had his attention. That’s a business he could get on board with.

She shook her head. “No, a brand experience thing. I don’t really know.”

Patrick let out a breath. “You don’t know what the business is that you’re investing in?”

She smiled. “I trust David. He’s the one who got me all of this money, and I want to show him my gratitude. Anyway, he sold so many leather ponchos!”

Leather ponchos? Yikes.

“Wait, is David the guy who worked for you last year? The cranky guy who seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else when he answered the phone?”

“Exactly. You’ll love him.”

He doubted it, but he had a positive balance in Patrick’s balance sheet from helping Wendy. “I think it would be helpful if you could tell me more about this, um, opportunity.” He kept shoving his face full of food so he didn’t say something he would regret.

After she explained things, he was more confused than before. 

“Maybe I should just talk to David.”

Wendy smiled even wider than normal. “I told him you’d text him since he’s not much of a talking on the phone person.” Her smile faltered a bit.

Okay, one meeting and he could make his uncle’s wife happy then move on to finding a real job. Hopefully, one at least a day’s drive away to put a little distance between his new life and his old one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to give Ray and Wendy some face-time :) They're such good secondary characters! TBH, they all are.
> 
> I'll be posting a chapter a day. Thanks for reading the first chapter of my first fan fic! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet-cuuuuuuuuute! *happy dances*

“Children! I require your presence.” David’s mom’s voice echoed through his and Alexis’s room, which wasn’t that hard since there was a door adjoining their room with their parents’. A cozy, little, nightmare-fueled, Brady Bunch setup.

“Ugh.” Alexis threw her magazine on her bed. “Can’t you come in here? I’m busy.”

“Reading about skincare routines for people in their thirties? I’ve noticed some new, um, texture around your eyes.” He waved a finger around his own eyes. “Good to catch it before it gets more out of hand. I’d be happy to share my nine-step routine with you.” David resumed swiping through vendors at the Elmdale farmer’s market to try and find a diamond among a pile of shitty coal. He bit the inside of his cheek when Alexis groaned. She was so easy to irritate.

“I am the elder in our family dynamic and it is customary that you acquiesce to my request.”

David and Alexis parroted an eye roll as they pulled themselves from their twin beds separated by a lamp whose shade was the color of nicotine stained teeth.

They reached the open doorway separating their rooms at when David tried to walk through, the doorway slammed into his shoulder.

Alexis shouldered him out of the way and went through the doorway first. “Ladies first.”

The corners of his mouth turned down and he gestured with a flourished hand, muttering, “After you.”

“Do either of you have a ring light?” His mom sat at her make-shift vanity and adjusted Monique on her head.

David looked at Alexis and gave an annoyed shake of his head. “Sure, when we had ten minutes to pack our most precious belongings, that was the second thing I grabbed after my tripod.”

His mom sighed. “There’s no need for your weaponized sarcasm. My agent emailed an audition and the lighting in this room is worse than a troll’s underpass hideaway.”

Alexis dropped into a chair at the plain wooden table. “What’s the audition for?”

“I don’t know. She said she would be emailing details soon. Maybe it’s a one-woman show on Broadway. I’ve wanted to revisit Patty Hearst’s story.” She looked wistfully in the distance then her eyes clouded over. “I’m open to anything except an ad for one of those devices elderly use to call for help when they’ve lost the battle with being vertical. I shall not stoop to that level.”

“Obviously,” Alexis said as she checked the ends of a chunk of her hair.

David felt a buzz in his hand and he looked at his phone.

Hi David, I’m Patrick (Wendy’s step-nephew). She gave me your number and said you might be looking for some business support.  
  


David scoffed. Business support? Hardly. More like bribing him to get some sort of résumé cred for her just-out-of college relative. He was probably twenty-three and drank energy drinks all day so he could vape all night. David’s nostrils flared. He probably smelled like Axe body spray.

“Why do you look like you were forced to wear Crocs?”

David slowly turned his head toward Alexis and stared at her with wide eyes. “First, how dare you even throw out something that horrific into the universe.” He closed his eyes for a moment to clear the offending thought from his mind. Disgusting, rubber shoes. Even worse than rubber sheets.

“Did another one of your faux friends uninvite you to a soiree?” His mom puckered up her lips as though she had sympathy to offer him.

David glared at his mother. “My friends are real, thank you very much.”

Alexis and his mom looked down at their hands. Ouch. Maybe the texts and phone calls had dried up a bit, but they were still his friends. Friends who appreciated each other’s space.

“Wendy is forcing her nephew into her investment. She wants him involved to help me with the business side of things.”

His mother smiled. “That’s wonderful, dear. You are such a creative soul.”

He glared at her. He still hadn’t forgiven her since she had told him a couple weeks ago that she had secretly funded his galleries. Now that he thought about it, that was the second time someone had called him creative in one day and he was beginning to think it wasn’t a compliment. “He’s probably some college student looking for an internship or something. I’ll just give him some bogus research project to keep him occupied.”

“I bet he could source some Croc suppliers for you. They come in so many colors, you know. Oooh maybe he could pick out some of those little things you can attach to them.” Alexis grinned and wrinkled her nose.

Demon sister. “You sure know a lot about crocs. Are you hiding some under your bed?”

She pouted.

“So, no ring light then?”

David groaned and stormed back into his—their—room. He sat on the edge of his bed and flopped onto his back, pulling his iPhone close to his face as he began rapidly finger-typing a reply.

Hello Patrick. I’ve got things pretty well under control. I’m sure you have a lot going on and I don’t want this project to be a burden.  
  


The perfect out. If this guy had any social graces, he’d see that David didn’t want, or need, his help.

After a moment, the three little dots began bouncing. And bouncing. And bouncing again. David waited for what felt like ages for Patrick’s reply. He had to be writing a novel or something. Or maybe copying and pasting his résumé. 

Actually, I don’t have a lot going on right now. I’d be happy to help and offer my expertise.  
  


Well, la-tee-da. Sounds like a real winner. David couldn’t think of a reply that didn’t involve a poo emoji or a gif of someone rolling their eyes so hard it could win an Oscar.

The dots began bouncing again.

Are you free for breakfast tomorrow? We could meet and talk about your business and how I can help.  
  


Breakfast? No way. He refused to get out of bed before ten for anyone who hadn’t seen him naked. 

Lunch? I have morning plans.  
  


To study the inside of his eyelids.

You name the place and I’ll be there.  
  


Accommodating. Maybe he really was fresh out of college and crashing with Wendy or something because anyone familiar with the area knew that Cafe Tropical was the only place in town to grab a bite to eat.

Noon at Cafe Tropical. I’ll be in the Neil Barrett.  
  


Looking forward to it.  
  


David couldn’t share the sentiment, but at least he had an outfit picked out for tomorrow. Starting the day with a win.

  
#  


Patrick craned his neck every time the bell over the cafe door chimed. He was pretty sure David wasn’t the white-haired man wearing head-to-toe leather. The guy who used to work at Wendy’s store had sounded younger, though. Sassier. Maybe leather guy was Neil Barrett?

He smiled at the memory of David telling Patrick he couldn’t get Wendy one time when he had called because she was too busy “trying to give him a heart attack by bringing in more sequin one-shoulder tank tops.” However, the whole thing ended up, it had promise of being interesting.

Lacing his fingers together on the table, he studied the faded flamingo statues by the front door and the dusty palm trees in a far corner. The place sure could use some sprucing up. The café had a tropical vibe akin to a retirement home that had recycled its luau decorations annually for the past few decades.

“Can I get you something to drink?” A woman near his age smiled as she approached his booth. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “I’m Twyla, by the way. I haven’t seen you here before. Are the restaurants in Elmdale too crowded because of the accountant conference? I heard some people were staying over at the motel.” The corner of her mouth pulled up ever so slightly.

“Black coffee would be great, thanks Twyla. I’m Patrick and I’m here for a meeting.”

“Nice to meet you. Coffee, coming right up.” She walked over to a nearby table.

The door chimed and Patrick looked over. A figure clad head-to-toe in black strode in. The crotch of his… pants?… hung almost to his knees. He peeled off his white sunglasses and it was like he moved in slow motion. Patrick’s breath hitched. The sun backlit him as he adjusted the cuffs of his long-sleeve black sweater with evenly spaced narrow, white stripes across the chest. A long-sleeved black sweater in summer? Brave. The man scanned the room and his eyes landed on Patrick. He felt the weight of the man’s eyes on him.

Patrick adjusted his body in the booth as he dug the heel of his hand in his thigh. If he thought he was confused before, now he was absolutely befuddled. Or maybe less confused than ever. The man was gorgeous, in a slightly irritated sort of way. He couldn’t decide if he wanted this person to be David or not. It was probably best if it wasn’t so he wouldn’t have to face the confusion brewing inside of him and threatening to spill over into something dangerous. Confusion or clarity. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry.

The door opened again and slammed into the man’s back. “Ouch! Watch where you’re going!” He stepped to the side and scowled at the mulleted man who entered. A non-ironic mullet? Rural Ontario was a trip.

“If you stand in a doorway, you’re bound to get hit by a door, David. Didn’t your dad ever teach you that?”

So that was David. Patrick’s stomach rocked. Showtime.

David’s face morphed into the most saccharine and sarcastic smile Patrick had ever beheld. It was a work of art. He had to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

“Great advice, Roland. Thank you,” David said, elongating the vowels on the last word as he stepped further into the restaurant and looked back at Patrick.

Patrick gave David a little wave. “David? I’m Patrick.” Though they were only a few booths apart, his raised voice caused looks by the handful of patrons around the cafe.

David's stare seemed to almost bore a hole into him. He kind of liked it? He walked over to the booth and sat down. "Hello, Patrick. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The smile looked about as genuine as a pink Canadian dollar bill. This was going to be fun. Patrick held back another laugh. Somehow, David was exactly what he had expected based on the couple of brief phone exchanges they’d had.

"Here's your coffee, Patrick. David, it's good to see you. Official business, eh?" She smiled at them in a warm and vacant way.

"Something like that," David mumbled. "Can I get a sparkling water with a slice of lime, please?"

"Absolutely. We just restocked that fancy brand you like."

"Thanks, Twy." His smile warmed up with her but chilled right back down when David's attention returned to him.

"So, you're Wendy's nephew? What's that like?" He looked down and straightened his sweater.

Patrick almost choked on the drink of lukewarm coffee. "She's great. She really is."

"Mm." David nodded slowly. "Great taste in clothes."

Silence fell between them for a moment.

“Is Neil Barrett joining us?”

David studied him. Patrick watched one of his immaculately groomed eyebrows arch.

He waved a hand up and down his chest. “This is a Neil Barrett.” He studied Patrick’s royal blue button-up. 

Suddenly Patrick felt simultaneously over- and under-dressed. "I don't know much about fashion."

"Get that from your aunt, then?"

"Step-aunt." Patrick laughed. "I'm more of a numbers guy than a fashion guy."

David's eyebrows told Patrick that was obvious. He probably should have Googled Neil Barrett. Not that he had much in his dresser besides khakis, jeans, and work-out clothes. He erred on wearing his nicest clothes, but it was pretty clear that his version of nice was on a different planet from David’s. Maybe even another galaxy.

David's eyebrows were the most expressive he'd ever seen. It was enthralling. He found himself just wanting to say random things to see how David would react. They were like perfectly groomed caterpillars. But sorta sexy caterpillars? Could caterpillars be sexy? Shit. He needed to get a grip.

But he also found himself wanting to play it cool and somehow try to impress this guy who was way out of his league.

His league.

Did that mean they were playing the same game?

"Did you order? I'm starving." David picked up one of the gigantic menus and unfolded it. The menu nearly blocked David from his view, except for the top of his head sticking above it.

If David had gotten there on time, they could have already had their food by then. But Wendy had wanted Patrick that David ran on Hollywood time. Patrick was in no rush. "Nope, waited for you."

"Thank, God." He looked over toward the counter. "Twy, we're ready to order."

"What are you going to get?" Patrick asked.

"Maybe a club sandwich. Or the cobb salad."

Patrick tried to read on the menu, but there were dozens of options and he couldn't focus enough to narrow anything down. What David said sounded good. "How about we order one of each and split them?"

David lowered the menu a bit to reveal wide eyes. "Share my food with you?" He looked like he had just discovered a week-old diaper. "I'm too hungry to split my meal and I haven’t decided if you have a sloppy mouth."

Patrick let out a bark of laughter. “A sloppy mouth? I brush, floss and mouthwash. Two kinds, actually. Antiseptic before brushing and fluoride after. I like to think my mouth is pretty clean.”

David stared at his mouth so Patrick opened it like he was at the dentist just to goad him. David rolled his eyes and lifted the menu back up.

"You'd still get a full meal, well two halves. This way you wouldn't have to choose. We could just get an extra plate."

David lowered the menu again and his expression grew thoughtful. "That's a good idea." He folded it up and placed it on the table.

"If you think that’s good, you should hear my business ideas."

David smirked. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” It was the most mischievous thing Patrick had seen. He spotted a slim dent in his cheek and couldn't help but wonder if the dimple could get more pronounced.

"Speaking of business, what’s your background that area?"

Patrick couldn't help his smile. "This is starting to sound like a job interview."

"If that's what you'd like to call it." David waved a hand and lifted one shoulder. Then he sat very straight as though he'd studied posture in school.

"What can I get you two?" Twyla asked as she set down David’s drink.

Patrick looked at David then to Twyla. "A Cobb salad and a club sandwich, please. With an empty plate."

David arched an eyebrow again, but he didn't change the order. Twyla looked to him and he half smiled at her, handing her his menu.

Patrick handed his menu to Twyla and bit his lips to hide his grin. David was fun. Really fun. "You sure that's all right?" he asked after Twyla walked away.

He angled his head, eyebrow still raised. He must have some amazing forehead muscles to sustain such exertion. "You didn't give me much choice." He closed his mouth and quirked it to the side; the dimple etched a bit deeper.

Patrick's new goal was to see that dimple in its full glory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No shade to anyone who owns Crocs lol.
> 
> Thanks to @deenerann for sharing a code tutorial for text message formatting and to @CodenameCarrot and @La_Temperanza for writing the tutorial!


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so maybe Patrick wasn’t quite as bad as he’d feared. David had been right on the college frat boy vibe, but instead of being fresh out of college, Patrick looked more like the accountant for a national fraternity association office.

Responsible. Organized. Earnest. Surprisingly witty. 

Patrick probably had a drawer full of folded khaki pants in various shades of taupe, as David had designer denim in various shades of black. David mentally scowled at the offensive comparison. 

If they were meeting at his favorite gay bar in NYC, David would have thought Patrick was flirting with him. Flirty banter and lingering glances. Ordering their meal was definitely a power move. And kinda hot. 

Ordering for someone else during a business meeting sent a different message and they certainly weren’t in a gay bar in NYC. Unfortunately. Maybe Patrick was trying to prove that he was a take-charge guy who could get things done or that he wanted David to know who held the purse strings, even if by proxy. 

The warm, flirty glow faded faster than when the feds had emptied his parent’s mansion.

Patrick cleared his throat. “That’s just an idea though. You’re leading this ship and I’m your first mate.”

David blinked twice. Shit. He missed what Patrick had said. “Sorry, can you say it again?” He glanced around. “I, uh, got distracted by Jocelyn’s blouse.” Was that leopard print and cheetah? Pink and turquoise?! Horrific.

Humor danced in Patrick’s eyes as David bit back a smirk. If they were on a date, David would know exactly how to play it to get one or both of their pants down. Patrick’s vibe screamed straight, though. If David were to list out every stereotype he had for a straight, white man, Patrick would tick them all. David knew better than to stereotype, but instincts had to count for something. The blue button-up with khaki’s was usually a warning bell for his straight-dar. He casually looked at Patrick’s left hand. No ring or tan line. That seemed surprising. The boy-next-door vibe seemed to work across sexual orientations.

“I was just saying that I did a bit of research last night and it looks like there are several small business grants that we—I mean you, with my help, if you want it—could apply for, depending on some details about the business.”

David studied Patrick as he took a long sip of his drink. He hadn’t considered looking for additional funding and sort of assumed all he had to work with was Wendy’s investment. Additional money could provide some breathing room and help him create the ambiance he knew would work for his vision. He was pushing it with Wendy’s money given the state of the space. There wasn’t even a door on the bathroom. “That’s a great idea.” After he said the words, he almost regretted the surprise in his voice, but Patrick didn’t seem to notice or mind if he did.

“Could you tell me more about your idea? Wendy didn’t share many details with me.”

Not surprising since she hadn’t been able to wrap her mind around his concept. David sat his drink down. “It’s a general store, but it's also a very specific store. It's also not just a store, it's like a place where people can come and get coffee or drinks, but it's not a coffee shop, nor is it a bar.”

David got distracted by Patrick studying him. The distraction erupted into full annoyance when Patrick had the audacity to laugh at him. Patrick sobered quickly, but the laugh stung. He should have known his mom had been right. His dad cast a wide shadow. Maybe the Rose entrepreneurial gene had skipped him. 

David looked down, rubbing circles on his glass. “So, yeah, it's an environment. We will be selling things, but it's more like a branded immersive experience.” His voice trailed off and he risked a look at Patrick. He could make up an excuse and get out of there. A plumbing emergency at the hotel or something.

Sweat beaded at the back of his neck as he squirmed under Patrick’s gaze. He was so stupid thinking he’d be able to make his dream a reality. 

“I’m so sorry I laughed, David. Wendy told me you have a wonderful way of explaining things and I get what she meant.”

David frowned. That certainly didn’t sound like a compliment.

Patrick put his hand on the table, tapping his thumb against the Formica just inches from David’s hand. He pulled back and placed his hands on his lap.

“Correct me if I’m misunderstanding anything. You know specific things you want to sell, but you want the business to be more than somewhere people pop in and buy things. You want them to feel comfortable in the space and create an environment they want to return to. A space that’s something unlike what they can get from anywhere else around here. Am I anywhere near the target?” The side of Patrick’s mouth morphed into a kind, closed-mouth smile as his eyebrows lifted. The hesitancy in Patrick’s expression matched David’s stomach.

“Yes,” David said in a whisper. “That’s exactly it.” David stared at Patrick, trying to see inside his head. How did this khaki-wearing guy-next-door get that from what David had said? He knew he hadn’t been doing a stellar job of explaining it given how confused his family and Stevie had looked when he repeatedly tried to talk it through with each of them. Stevie had understood, eventually, but he knew his parents were just indulging him with their support as they’d done with his galleries. 

But Patrick got it. Instantly.

David didn’t know if he should ask him to be his business partner or run for the hills. He understood the fear of failure that had been a constant undercurrent since the idea first sparked, but 

Patrick’s validation had introduced something new. A fear of success? Was the clamminess on his palms from the nerves or the condensation on his drink?  
Patrick’s wide smile awoke something within David. Something he had locked away years, and many failed attempts at relationships, ago. That s(c)hitty little town was seriously messing with his mind.

“What kinds of products do you plan to sell?”

David fought the urge to continue staring at his hands and looked at Patrick. An urge to see Patrick’s raw reaction to his idea overcame him. He wanted to see Patrick’s non-verbals, not just hear polite encouragement. “With how spread out the farmers and towns are here, I want to provide access to their wares without people needing to go to them. I’ll work with local farmers and crafters to give them a space to sell their goods, but I would do so under my brand for uniformity and to give customers a promise of quality.”

Patrick’s smile widened and grew more confident. “Wow. That’s a great idea.” He looked down, then glanced back up. “I’m not just saying that because my aunt sent me here. I think you really have something. I’d like to help you make this a success.” He looked as surprised by the sincerity in his words as David felt.

“Here you go, boys. Cobb salad and a club sandwich with an extra plate.” Twyla lined up the meals in the center of the table with the empty plate in the middle. “I added some extra tater tots. They don’t taste too freezer-burnt today. Need anything else?

“I think we’re good. Thanks, Twyla,” David said, but his eyes didn’t leave the plates. His stomach growled its gratitude. “Excellent idea getting both. I would be with whatever I had picked because I didn’t have the other.”

David caught the corner of Patrick’s mouth turned up from behind the coffee cup. That knowing smile could get a man in trouble. 

David shoveled half the salad onto the empty plate and pushed it toward Patrick and pulled the remaining half toward himself. There was an odd number of avocado slices. Hesitating for a moment, he decided to give Patrick the extra slice of his favorite part of a cobb. David’s nostrils flared. Who the hell was he? Maybe he should ask Stevie if they had a thermometer back at the hotel to check for a fever because that was the only logical reason he would willingly give up avocado.

“I love avocado,” Patrick said as he stuck his fork right through it.

“Me too.” David took a bite of salad carefully stacked with a bit of egg, bacon and avocado on the lettuce.

“You want my avocado?” Patrick held out his fork. 

David’s breath hitched. He looked at the man across from him. “But you said you love avocado.”

Patrick shrugged. “You did too.”

David swallowed down the frog trying to escape his throat. Alexis would have distracted David somehow and taken the avocado from his plate after eating hers. Stevie probably would have accidentally dumped salt on it just to fuck with him. Patrick offered to share. For no good reason, since they were practically strangers. He was probably the sort of guy who would offer his water bottle to someone else if they were stranded in the desert. Or, heaven forbid, pull over to help a stranger change their tire during a storm in the middle of the night.

The devil on David’s shoulder, lovingly named Trust Issues, informed him that Patrick was just trying to butter him up for the business, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. Maybe he wanted to steal the idea? Or steal Wendy’s money? Maybe he was a spy from another business who wanted the space and planned to ruin David’s business before it even began? No, none of that made sense, but it made more sense than someone being nice to just be nice. Then again, rural Canada.

“There you go.” 

David looked down and saw Patrick had put his avocado on David’s plate while he had been staring into space and musing over how Patrick was really a maniacal henchman dressed as the quarterback in a rom-com.

“Oooh avocado! Yummmmm.” Familiar thin fingers snatched the slices from David’s plate.

David looked up at his sister. “You nasty little b-” he hissed.

“David! Watch your language. We have company.” Alexis’s eyes went wide, then her go-to flirty smile made an appearance as she looked Patrick up-and-down. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

He rolled his eyes and mouthed an apology to Patrick. “This is Patrick.”

She looked back at David and gave her head an expectant shake. “K, and?”

“This is Wendy’s nephew. The one I was meeting with over lunch to talk about the store.”

“Ohhhhh. Right.” She stuck out her hand, limp at the wrist. Patrick grabbed her fingertips and gave them a bit of a shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Alexis, David’s younger and very single sister.”

David bit his lower lip and wished he were allergic to bacon so he could swell up and have an excuse to get out of there. Patrick shot David a look, but he couldn’t decipher it.

“Nice to meet you, Alexis. I’m Patrick.” His tone was even, friendly. 

David fleetingly wished Patrick would have reciprocated and shared whether he was single, but that was stupid. Even if he was single and some flavor of queer, getting Patrick naked for a night of fun would be terrible in so many ways.

Maybe it was time to see how Jake was doing because his dry spell had developed its own dry spell. Meh. Jake had lost his appeal after the throuple attempt. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to help David with this project? I think he could use it.” She looked at David and scrunched up her nose as made that annoying-as-hell squeaking sound. 

Patrick looked at David and held his stare. “I really hope David will let me help him. It’s a fantastic business idea and could really help revitalize this town.”

David’s breathing grew shallow.

Alexis turned her attention to David and waggled her eyebrows. “David. I think you’ve found a winner here. This guy has business partner written all over his khakis.” She smirked, then bent down and looked under the table for a moment. “Do you own Crocs, Patrick?”

“Own what?” Patrick said with an awkward laugh, looking between the two of them.

David waved a hand. “It’s nothing.” He looked at his sister and willed her to flee like Roland’s hairline. “Don’t you have to get back to work? I’m sure Ted needs you.”

Her smile told him he’d better expect to give her a full run-down later. 

Obviously. 

“Lovely to meet you, Patrick. I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you.” She winked at David before strutting over to the counter.

Would she? It’s not like he had a lot of choice if bringing Patrick aboard was Wendy’s condition for her investment. Patrick seemed to have some good ideas and David wouldn’t know how to even begin looking for grants.

If he wanted to make this work, he needed to swallow his pride and accept some help. 

#

“It’s… nice.” Patrick stood just inside the empty general store and looked around. He kicked a dirty postcard of the ridiculous Schitt’s Creek town sign out of the way. The white brick looked good. With a fresh coat of paint and a good scrubbing of the floor, it would be good to go. 

David tsked. “Sure, ‘nice’ like the backside of a donkey.”

Or maybe not.

Patrick turned to David and saw his eyebrows arched high and cheeks tugged back to reveal his bottom teeth. “David, if anyone can turn this into something special, it’s you. It’s clear you have a vision and excellent taste.”

David faced Patrick. “Are you insane?” He shook his head. “No, I’m insane thinking I could do anything to this space. Look at it! It looks more beat-up than an Old West saloon in a ghost town. There’s no way I can bring my vision to life.”

Patrick barely knew this tall man who seemed to constantly teeter between the verge of an anxiety attack and an aloofness so strong it nearly sucked the air from a room. They had texted a couple times about the business since their lunch yesterday, which was barely enough interaction to know much about a person. That said, Patrick considered himself a good reader of people and his spidey senses told him that David was spiraling and talking himself out of taking the next steps in the business. That was a natural progression he’d seen with many of the entrepreneurs he’d worked with in the past.

Patrick couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but he knew he couldn’t let David quit. His gut had made some risky moves lately, but he still trusted it. It had led him to calling off his wedding and the relief that decision had brought him created more relief than Patrick knew he could ever feel. The same gut told him he had to push David and encourage him.

He took two steps and stood in front of David. He reached his hands out, wanting to place them on David’s arms, but his nerve faltered before he made contact. “Let’s just take one step, okay? Tell me about it. That’s all I want you to do. Walk me through the vision you have for this space and help me see what you’ve envisioned.”

David and Patrick stared at each other for several heartbeats, then David nodded slowly. “Okay.”

David closed his eyes and let out a few lengthy breaths through his mouth. A mix of coffee and mint warmed Patrick’s senses. He took a couple of steps back to give David—and himself—some space. 

“The cash register would be over here.” David took a few steps to the right. “With a fridge next to it carrying some local cheeses and white wines.” 

Patrick followed David as he walked through the main room and storage room, describing in extreme detail the decor, products and flow of the space.

David was fucking brilliant. 

Though Patrick had been crashing with Wendy in Elmdale, he had figured out enough about Schitt’s Creek to recognize that David’s clothes stood out like a sore thumb and his taste was clearly more upmarket than the town was used to, but somehow, it just worked. 

His growing interest in David Rose aside, Patrick could tell the man had a winning business idea. Even in a small town in the middle of nowhere, it would work with the right marketing. They could try to get on some media lists of places to visit when escaping the city or even drop some brochures along the regional antiquing trail stops. 

David had the idea and Patrick had the experience in developing new businesses to help David’s idea not only succeed but thrive.

Together, they could make it happen.

Together. The word caused a little flip in Patrick’s stomach and he wasn’t ready to examine it. It had to just be his professional excitement of getting to see another business succeed and had nothing to do with the fact that when he closed his eyes last night to go to sleep he had replayed his unexpectedly enticing lunch with David instead of envisioning the wedding he could have still been planning with Rachel. Nope. Definitely something he wasn’t ready to examine.

Helping people achieve their dreams was what he loved to do. Patrick had seen more than a dozen businesses take off with his coaching, and he couldn’t wait to help hundreds more throughout his career. He could help David and then move on to the next project. Hopefully, in Toronto, where he could more freely explore some things about himself.

“And then the store name over the entrance would be wooden letters painted white and hung individually to make more of a statement.” David clasped his hands together in front of him.

Patrick stood next to him. “Any ideas for the business name?”

David looked down to his feet. “I’m thinking Rose Apothecary.”

Patrick wanted to wrap him in a hug. Though David had several inches on Patrick, he looked so vulnerable. Hugs always made Patrick feel better, but something warned him that David may not find the same comfort in a simple hug. “I think the name is perfect. It’s just pretentious enough.”

David looked up. Several expressions passed over his face, landing on squinting eyes and a pinched mouth. Patrick felt like David was trying to assess his sincerity. “Mm, would we call that pretentious or timeless?”

Patrick chuckled. “For the past five years, I’ve been consulting with entrepreneurs to help them get their business ideas off the ground and I’ve learned to spot what will work and what won’t.” He looked deep into David’s dark, hypnotic eyes. “This will work.”

David let out a breath. “Really?”

“Yes.” Patrick smiled. “How do you feel after walking through the place and talking out what you’d to do it? Honestly.”

The lower half of David’s mouth shifted to the side as he did a slow spin, looking around the room. “Honestly? Better. It feels more doable, I guess.”

Patrick gave himself a mental high five. He’d had similar pep talked with other entrepreneurs before, but that one felt like the end of the third inning and they were already up by three. “Good. I think we will make a good team, David.”

“Why do I feel manipulated?” David narrowed his eyes.

Patrick shrugged and turned away to hide his smile. “But do you feel better?”

“Yes.” The word was so quiet, Patrick almost didn’t catch it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is so fun to write in this world! Dan Levy, you have bestowed a gift upon us.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left such lovely comments! You have brought lots of smiles to my face this week <3

“Wait, it doesn’t go in the fridge? Then why does it have ‘milk’ in the name? That’s misleading.” Patrick pulled another label off the sticker paper and carefully lined it up on the white bottle. The tip of his tongue stuck out at the side of his mouth.

David held back a laugh as he watched Patrick’s concentration. If Patrick kept up like that, David wouldn’t get anything done. Patrick had made the process fun so far. When David got derailed by his over-thinking tendencies, Patrick was there to bring him back to reality. When he couldn’t decide on something, Patrick helped him think through his options and make a decision that David felt good about. Patrick turned out to be exactly what he needed.

What he needed to get the business off the ground. David forced any other thoughts from his mind. 

With David’s track record of a string of relationships that lasted barely a blip, he feared Patrick would leave before anything could even start. 

Even as his business manager—entrepreneurship coach?—David couldn’t help but feel queasy any time his mind wandered and think about Patrick’s inevitable departure. David didn’t know what Patrick’s plans were for after the grand opening, but he didn’t need Patrick to fill in the blanks about his career. He had talked a lot about the businesses he had helped start, but there were no stories about the businesses he stuck around.

Patrick looked up and smiled. David let out a breath. That smile did a number on him.

“What?” Patrick asked. “Am I doing it wrong?”

No. “Just wondering if you’re going to take eternity on each one? I’d like to get done before dinner tomorrow.”

Patrick smirked. “I’m just trying to live up to the standards of David Rose. One crooked label and I know you’ll poison me with spoiled body milk.”

“I told you! You DON’T EAT IT!” What was so hard to understand about that?

Patrick doubled over with laughter. “It’s just too easy.”

David bit his lip, but a laugh escaped. “Knock it off. You’re such a brat.” He swatted Patrick with a sheet of labels.

“David?” A voice traveled from the store entrance. He needed to start locking it when they were in the back. “Dear, are you hiding in some unsuspecting corner amongst webs like Charlotte?” 

David’s eyes widened. No, no, no. “Shit. It’s my mom.”

“Your mom? Moira Rose?” Patrick smoothed his baseball T-shirt. David swore the man had a closet full of them.

“Don’t get too excited. She’s a handful.”

“Think she’ll let me get an autograph for my mom? I told her I was working with you and she begged me to get her an autograph. She was a huge Sunrise Bay fan.” Patrick smiled, like a kid at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

“You told your mom about me?” Aww. 

“Really, David. Are you ignoring me? I know you don’t have a back door to sneak out of.”

“Don’t you dare ask her for an autograph,” David hissed. His mom would never let him live that down. Neither would Alexis. He couldn’t handle the taunting. “I’ll get you one later,” he blurted, after Patrick’s shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly. 

David walked out of the storage room and into the front room. “Hello, Mother. Why are you here?” He leaned his hip against the front counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is that how you should greet the woman who birthed you from her womb?”

“You scheduled a C-section to have me on a day off in your filming schedule, then left me with a nanny and a bottle,” he muttered.

Patrick hesitantly stepped out of the storage room with his t-shirt now tucked into his jeans. David shook his head. 

“Hi, Mrs. Rose. I’m Patrick.” He stuck out his hand as he walked toward her.

She forced a polite smile. “Hello.” She didn’t accept his hand, so Patrick let it fall. David bit the inside of his cheek. Patrick did not understand who he was up against. 

“Let’s let the past live in history, shall we, David? I would rather not talk of my birthing experiences in new company.” She glanced at Patrick.

David let out a slight groan. “What do you want?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Moira shoved her iPhone in his face. 

David narrowed his eyes and studied the screen. “What are you showing me? Wrinkle cream?” 

She shrieked and pulled the phone back. “No!” She tapped loudly against the screen. “This. My agent sent me an opportunity and I need you to run lines with me so I can send in an audition tape tomorrow.” Her eyes grew wide, almost frantic. “This is my chance to get back in, David. I need you,” she whispered.

He quickly turned to glance at Patrick, but he had already walked toward the far end of the room with a broom in hand. Though they had just swept. He smiled at Patrick’s thoughtful distance, then turned to face his mother again.

“I’m kind of busy right now. Can this wait?” David gestured around the space. She had enough sense to see how much work they had left to do before the shop opened next month. Though being observant of the needs of others wasn’t exactly a Rose family strength. 

“It is imperative I practice now. I need to run through it with someone else to warm up my muscles. David, what if they have atrophied?” 

He looked up to the ceiling and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. If he ran lines with her, then she would leave, and he could get back to Patrick. Working with Patrick. “Fine.”

“Wonderful. I’m a scientist and you’re my assistant. How do I send you the script?” 

“Here.” He grabbed the phone out of her hand to send it to himself. “What’s the movie?”

“Ravens have Teeth, I believe. A big budget, compelling psychological thriller.”

“The Crows Have Eyes?” Patrick said, looking at them like a kid in a candy store. “No way! I love the first two.” He walked over. 

So much for the polite distance. Though Patrick’s excitement was adorable.

“I’m a huge fan of that horror franchise. Caw!” 

David and his mother both jumped at Patrick’s enthusiastic bird call. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you help her run lines, Patrick? Since you’re so familiar with the storyline. I think that will really help her get into character. Then I can go fix the labels on the body milk.” He pinched his lips together and stifled a laugh at the smile melting off of Patrick’s face.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Patrick said.

“I’m sure Peter has more important things to do, darling. I could really use your help,” his mother said. 

“Patrick. His name is Patrick, Mother.” David saw Patrick wince. He wanted to hug the disappointment away from him. His heart rate kicked up at the thought of giving Patrick a hug. His adorkable business coach. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to willingly hug someone who had at least two kinds of khakis, based on what David had to witness. At least he’d been wearing jeans the past couple week while they worked to clean the space. Much better.

“I’d be happy to help, Mrs. Rose. I have some experience in regional theatre.” 

“Who doesn’t?” She quipped. 

“David is better at applying labels than I am, and it would be an honor to know I contributed to this franchise in the finest of ways.”

David couldn’t help but chuckle. He and Patrick were so different, and he loved it. He and Stevie were almost the same person, but Patrick added something fresh to the mix. 

“I’ll be in the storage room if you need me.” He walked by Patrick and squeezed his shoulder. 

Electricity raced from his palm to his fingertips. Patrick sucked in a breath. Or was that David? They locked eyes. David dragged his hand away.

“If you insist. Peter, thank you. I have already memorized my lines. Here you are.” She handed her phone to him.

“The last time I acted was as Peter Pan years ago, so I may be rusty,” Patrick said.

“The lead? Well, then. This may work out after all. The most experience David has was a walk-on role in his sister’s brief reality television show and as the third tree during a childhood production of Little Red Riding Hood.” 

David ignored Patrick’s laughter as he went into the storage room. If Patrick would grill him later about Little Red Riding Hood, at least he had Peter Pan as an ace up his sleep. An ace in tights.

Yum.

#

“What a rush. It was so much fun getting to run lines with your mom. She’s a real professional.” Patrick couldn’t wait to call his own mom. Maybe next time he’d have the courage to ask Mrs. Rose for an autograph and maybe next time she’d get his name right since they had spent over three hours together practicing.

He might offer to help her again if she got the part because David’s anxiety manifested in working hard because he had not only got his share of the goods labeled, but Patrick’s too. 

“I’m not sure you need me around anymore. It looks like you got more than enough done for the both of us.” Patrick grinned at David as he put newly labeled jars of moisturizer back in a storage box.

“Maybe my mom could get you a part in the movie,” David said nonchalantly.

Patrick stilled. Could she? That would be incredible. He loved that B-movie series. Corny? Sure. But the corniest horror movies were his favorites. 

“Then when it wins an Oscar for best picture, she could thank you in her acceptance speech for being the inspiration for her success. The plucky young man from Bumfuck, Ontario.” David stacked the remaining labels and placed them on top of a closed box on a shelf. 

Patrick glared at David. “Knock it off.”

“I bet she could put in a good word for you. Maybe you could be the lead in The Crows Have Eyes 4: The Cawcophony. Hollywood is all about networking, you know?”

“Shut up, David.” Patrick couldn’t help but laugh.

David looked over at him, his dimples on full display. Patrick couldn’t take his eyes off of his mouth. 

“With that sexy caw of yours, I’m sure they could even use your audio in the movie. You could make some good money from that.”

Patrick bit his lower lip. “Sexy, eh?”

David glanced at him, then turned to rearrange some already organized boxes on the shelves. “Professionally speaking. You know, since I have experience in the industry.”

“Yes, of course. That brief stint on Alexis’s reality show had to be a real career game-changer. I bet your phone blew up after that. Is Spielberg a nice guy?” He hoped his retort covered the full-body reaction he’d had when David used the word “sexy” in connection to him. Even if it was about a dumb noise he made. 

When Rachel had told him repeatedly she thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, he only felt a lukewarm gratitude that often got swallowed by feelings of guilt and self-loathing that he didn’t feel more for her than friendship and platonic affection.

But David Rose telling him that an obnoxious bird sound he made in a moment of excitement was sexy? Patrick damn near had to turn around to hide a tent threatening to grow in his pants.

What the fuck? 

The back of Patrick’s neck tightened, and his chest squeezed. His lungs couldn’t fill with air. Oh no. No, no. No. Not that. Not again. He bent over to grasp his knees as his body wracked with tremors. 

“Patrick? Patrick! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” David rushed over and put his hand on Patrick’s back. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” David’s hands were checking his forehead and the pulse in his neck. He already had his phone out.

The contact had his heart thundering in his chest. He wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not before he got to see the store open and David’s excitement.

Patrick took a couple steps away from David. The physical contact made him feel worse. “I’m fine,” he said between quick breaths. “Anxiety. I’m okay.” 

“Are you having a panic attack? I just recently learned those were real. I thought they were some publicity stunt celebrities used for a break or to get plastic surgery. I had one last year and they are awful.” He slid the phone back in his pocket. 

David’s rambling helped to calm Patrick a bit. He sat down with his back against the brick wall. The coolness of it helped him focus on his breath. “Keep talking. Please,” Patrick managed.

David frowned. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.” 

Patrick laid on the cool floor and stared at the ceiling as he fought the urge to pass out. 

“I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to eat, and constantly felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. Stevie took me to see Ted since there’s no doctor in this hellscape of a town and he said I was having a panic attack. Let me tell you, nothing makes you feel worse than being diagnosed by someone who expels canine anal glands for a living.”

Patrick over up at David and half smiled. The man had simultaneously caused the panic attack and was soothing it. Patrick wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew when he had called things off for good with Rachel and one hit, everything she did to help him made it worse.

David walked over to the mini fridge Patrick had brought in the other day and pulled out a bottle of the fancy fizzy water he loved. He returned to Patrick and sat down next to him, then twisted off the bottle lid. Patrick pulled himself into a sitting position and held out a shaky hand to receive the water. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry if my teasing stressed you out. I’ll rein it in. It’s just… a bad habit.” David scooted back a couple of feet until his back was flush against the wall. “I know I need to keep things more professional. Sometimes teasing is how I show people I appreciate them, like an annoying seven-year-old.” He stopped and looked in the distance. “Though, I tease people I can’t stand too. Maybe I need to find a therapist again.”

Patrick’s heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he watched David awkwardly talk things out. When he first met David Rose, he saw a man who didn’t belong in Schitt’s Creek. He saw a man too fashionable, too cultured, too handsome— he’d better stop there before the anxiety hit again.

The more time he spent with David, the more he realized the fancy clothes were just his armor. He was just as flawed and awkward as everyone else, but everyone else didn’t have societal expectations placed upon them like the burden the Roses had to carry. As though the money they once possessed had levied an unwritten contract that they had to be held to a higher standard as a penance for their wealth.

“Therapists are good. I think I need one too.” Patrick took another swig of the water. His hands were less shaky.

David watched him like a hawk. Patrick felt warmed by his concern. 

“No way you need therapy. You seem as put together as they come.”

If he only knew. “I could say the same about you, but what we see on the outside doesn’t always match what’s going on inside.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Patrick felt lost in David’s black eyes.

“Daviiiid! You should lock your door after dark so weirdos don’t get in,” Alexis yelled. Normally Patrick would be happy to see her. That wasn’t a normal moment.

“I’m going to feed her lead paint,” David mumbled as he stood, wiping the back of his jeans. “Too late. The weirdo got in,” he yelled back at her.


	5. Chapter 5

David rolled over and pulled the cover over his face to block the light shining through the shitty motel curtains. That should have been his second purchase after the new bedding once he had previously resigned himself to a more permanent stay in Schitt’s Creek and the motel.

“Shh. He’ll be awake soon,” Alexis said with a bite. “Let me tell him.”

David squeezed his eyes shut. Wrinkles be damned. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, whatever ambush was about to happen would go away and he could get back to dreaming about what was about to happen before Alexis cock-blocked him last night at the shop and impeded David had been about to maybe, possibly, hopefully, learn Patrick’s sexual orientation. He knew something had changed between them last night or that Patrick had been about to share something big. The energy was charged, like someone had plugged him into a generator.

David didn’t have much experience in that sort of thing. Making eyes at someone from across a club with EDM blaring loud enough to cause ripples in his skin and jerking his head to meet them in the bathroom for a quick fuck? Plenty of experience. Feeling like he would jump out of his skin from excited anticipation as he stepped out of his motel room each morning to walk toward Patrick waiting for him at the store? That was new. 

Their flirting had grown more intense as they spent more time together and David hoped he was queer—please, God, let him be queer—but he’d met plenty of straight guys in the past who flirted with him to see if they could snag him. David hated being used that way, but he had never once felt used by Patrick. Except for the few times Patrick had led David into a verbal corner during some of his more obstinate insistences about the shop, only to have Patrick wield his logical business brain like Excalibur. Even in those moments, though, David didn’t really feel used, but more grateful that Patrick used his sharp wit and sarcasm to help David realizes things on his own.

Ugh. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but they were definitely flirting. Unfortunately, he would bet a lifetime supply of deep-dish pizza it wasn’t going anywhere beyond the seemingly endless volley of teasing peppered with moments of bone-rattling earnestness. 

“It’s after ten. We should wake him. Surely he needs to be at the store working by now.” His dad’s tone held disapproval. Just because David didn’t execute his work ethic in the same way as his dad, didn’t mean he didn’t have one. He may roll into the store at noon, but he had stayed until after ten the past couple of nights. 

“I do not understand what the big deal is. Sebastien Raine will only be here for a day. It is hardly enough time for me to introduce him to David, so he will just have to wait until another time to meet the man. Why must we make such a fuss?”

David threw back the cover like a bucket of ice had just fallen from it. “What did you say?! Sebastien RAINE?!”

Each of his family members jumped back.

“I told you I’d handle it,” Alexis hissed to their mom, her lips pressed in a tight line. For a fleeting moment, David appreciated her rare ire being used in his defense, but she still knew something about Sebastien and hadn’t told him? That was breaking rule number two in the sibling handbook. Rule number one being no taking photos of each other without permission if they weren’t ready for the day. Every good relationship needed some ground rules.

David sat up and inched backward on the bed until his back hit the headboard. 

Alexis smiled sweetly at him and lowered herself on his bed, next to his legs. She straightened her floral mini dress. He tried to glare that smile off her face. “David, hi. Yes, that Sebastien. He’s coming to Schitt’s Creek.” The concern in her eyes nearly broke him. She was the one person in Schitt’s Creek who knew their history and the lasting damage from their time together.

“Why?” David yelled. “Why do you all hate me?” He looked at each of them, hoping to project the rage growing inside of him.

“You are being melodramatic, David. My professional appointments have nothing to do with you.”

“I told you, he’s David’s ex.” Alexis snapped. “I mean, really, how can you be so clueless about this stuff?”

“Moira, dear, David introduced you to Sebastien at the Met Gala. Don’t you remember?”

She smiled and stared into the distance. “Oh yes. I had that lovely gown flown in from Ar-gen-teen-ah.” 

Sometimes the way his mother spoke got under his skin worse than restaurant butter that was too cold to spread on table bread.

“Will someone tell me why my ex-boyfriend is coming HERE?” David closed his eyes and willed himself to count to ten like Ted had instructed him to do when he felt his stress level skyrocket.

His mom casually waved her hand. “To strategize a new project featuring me. I am sure we will discuss the best locale to accentuate my attributes. Ibiza, perhaps? Or maybe the French countryside?”

“This is a lovely time of year in Morocco,” his dad said.

“Ah, yes. Remember that time we stayed in the palace with—”

“UGH.” David sunk back down on the bed and threw the covers over his face. He accidentally kneed Alexis in the back and she jumped off the bed. 

“Ugh! Ow, David!” she shrieked.

The last thing he needed was Sebastien showing up and getting his grubby hands over the life David was building in Schitt’s Creek. He had left Sebastien behind in New York and wanted him to stay there like a quarantined virus.

The one man that David had thought he could make it work with. The one man whose ultimate heartbreak had sent David down a path he wasn’t sure he could come back from. The man who cast a constant shadow over any time he had dared to let himself dream of something with Patrick.

His parents left the room, reminiscing about Morocco.

“Don’t worry, David. I told mom she’s not allowed to bring him here. They’re going to meet at the cafe this morning. Far away from you. I’ll run interference and make sure you don’t have to hear his annoying voice.”

David yanked the covers off his face and scowled at her. “I have to work in the store today. The store that is across the street from the cafe. How is that far away?”

She sat at their little table and picked up a nail file. “Jeez, David. No need to yell at me. I was just trying to help.” She tsked and studied her nails. “Wear something cute. Don’t worry, if he sees you in there, he’ll probably just hit on Patrick, anyway.”

David’s jaw dropped. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” His voice was wild and shrill. “You are such a little bitch.”

Her mouth turned into an O-shape, then curved into a smile. “David. We have a lot to talk about. Jealousy is a good look on you.” She did an air-boop of his nose from across the room.

“I’m not jealous.” David rolled back over and stared at the sunlight, wishing it would make him spontaneously combust like a vampire. Maybe if he told himself that a couple hundred more times, the dread that had settled in his stomach at Sebastien getting his ridiculously huge hands on Patrick would disappear. 

Not likely. Sebastien was a predator, and Patrick didn’t know who he was up against.

#

Patrick strode up the Rose Apothecary space whistling, with hands full of coffees and pastries. He had joined David on enough café visits in the past few weeks to learn his favorites. Hopefully David wouldn’t feel like the gesture was too personal.

He hooked the door handle with his fingertips, but it didn’t move. Shit. His hands were full of scalding coffee and his phone was in his back pocket. If only David had selected one of the Wayfair clocks Patrick had suggested last week, he’d have a damn clue what time it was, but no, David Rose couldn’t buy mass-produced home decor like the rest of the peasants. He smiled anyway. The man was so different from anyone he’d ever known.

He could take David out to hit the nearby antique trail and they could find something unique that fit the aesthetic David had in his mind, which was something Patrick couldn’t wrap his own mind around. It was a good thing he and David had complementary strengths, like salt and sugar. Without both, a batch of freshly made bagels wouldn’t turn out as good.

Patrick sat the scalding coffees on the ground to check his phone. Hitting the antique trail would be good research, too. They could get some ideas of places to market the store and find some spots to drop off store brochures once they got some printed. 

Patrick hit the side button on his phone to check the time. He thought he’d been running late, but David must be too. He placed David’s cheddar and chive scone on top of his coffee to help trap the heat in the cup while he took a bite of the ham and cheese croissant he had picked up for himself. It would be easier if he had his own key, but that would assume he was sticking around beyond the opening to make it worth creating another one. The croissant turned to sand in his mouth.

Looking for a distraction from the rising panic in his throat, he opened the browser on his phone to scope out possible stops on the antique trail. As soon as the app launched, he froze, then frantically looked around him to make sure no one else could see.

He released a lengthy breath. Chill out. The sidewalk was empty and, even if someone walked by, no one could see the tiny screen on the phone with the brightness turned down.

The evidence of Patrick’s late-night Googling session stared back at him like a cornucopia of blackmail fodder.

Patrick gave his head a shake. No. He had to stop thinking like that. It wasn’t shameful. His heteronormative life until that moment would be a lot to re-wire in his head, but he was ready for the work because the exploratory Googling his new therapist suggested sure had him rethinking some things.

_How do I know if I’m gay  
If I think one guy is hot, am I gay  
How late is too late to realize you’re gay  
Is it ever too late to realize you’re gay  
Are you gay if you’ve slept with women  
Can I be straight if I’m attracted to men  
Difference between gay straight bisexual pansexual  
David Rose topless_

That last search had been… illuminating. In many ways. He hadn’t dared go beyond the first page of image results. Nor had he needed to.

Add to mental to-do list: wash sheets.

After three hours of reading articles, blog posts and watching interviews with people about their coming out experiences, one TikTok video had sort of sealed the deal when a handsome man had said, “Want to know if you’re gay? I’ll tell you.” Thirty seconds had passed as the man busied himself with dusting a table until he said. “Oh, you’re still here? You’re gay.”

Talk about being yanked out of the closet by feather duster.

Patrick was glad he had found a texting-based therapy service to try out. Somehow, texting about his new self-discovery journey was easier than saying the words aloud. At least for now.

“Morning.” David pulled a key from his pocket and shoved it in the lock. His foot slammed into the coffee cups on the ground, smashing them between David’s shoes (that probably cost more than the store’s rent) and their recently cleaned glass windows. “Shit!” David jumped back. “Shit! My shoes. Shit.”

David looked down at his feet, then at Patrick. “Why were there coffees in front of our door?”

Patrick blinked twice. He was caught off guard by the anger in David’s voice. He had grown used to David’s exasperation, annoyance and the way he used sarcasm to deflect, but anger was new.

“I got us coffees and that chive and cheese scone you like.”

David’s meticulously groomed eyebrows furrowed. “Leaving them in front of the door was a dumb idea.” He picked up the cups and shook out the remaining liquid on the sidewalk, then pushed his way in the store.

“Thanks for the thoughtful gesture, Patrick. It’s so nice of you to take notice of my favorite coffee and pastry and surprise me with them.” Patrick’s words dripped with sarcasm. “They were next to the door, not in front of it. I’m not that stupid.” He hated that his own anger was rising to match David’s. He forced a deep breath. David had obviously woken up on the wrong side of the bed, and he needed to be the calming force for them both. 

David shot Patrick a look that dared him to say another word. Patrick kept his lips pressed together as he picked up the remnants of his morning purchase. A part of him wanted to push it and live dangerously. That part was a masochist and he didn’t know David well enough yet to know what was too far.

“Why don’t you go clean your shoes off. The milk in your latte could spoil if you don’t get it out of the… suede.” Patrick grimaced. “Give me your room key and I’ll run over there to grab you some other shoes.”

“I don’t have any other shoes that will match this outfit.” David’s voice had more of a whining tone. Whining was better than angry. Definitely better than angry.

“You don’t have other black shoes?” Patrick knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. He threw his hands in the air. “Forget it. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I wear black shoes with a brown belt.”

David dropped his key on the table and stormed into the storage room. “I’ll text Alexis to select a pair.”

“Yes, sir.” Patrick walked over to their cash register table and grabbed his key. He rubbed his thumb against the edges of the corny plastic keyring that said “Motel.” 

“Thank you.” 

Tension uncoiled in Patrick’s shoulders. He appreciated hearing those two words from David, even if they were quiet and short on enthusiasm.

He jogged over to the motel to work off some pent-up energy. It took a few knocks, but Alexis eventually answered. “David sent me to grab a pair of shoes. There was an accident.” 

She reached over and grabbed a box off of David’s bed near the door. Patrick tried to look beyond Alexis to see the rest of the room. He’d only seen the outside of David’s shared residence, but Alexis was already closing the door behind her as she stepped outside. “He texted me to make sure you didn’t grab the wrong ones. You know, since you don’t know fashion.”

Patrick laughed, appreciating the refreshing honesty he’d grown to appreciate from the quirky residents of the town. 

“That was smart of him.”

“He’s in a bad mood today. Watch out.” Alexis grimaced as she adjusted her floppy hat.

Patrick fell into step with her as they walked back toward downtown. “I noticed. What’s going on?” He risked a glance at her.

She stared at the ground as her mouth kept opening and closing, but she stopped herself from saying whatever she wanted to. “Not my thing to tell, but please be patient with him today, okay? If he’s extra anxious or on-edge, it has nothing to do with you.”

Patrick nodded and felt his stress drain even further. “Thanks for letting me know.” It must have been bad for Alexis to look out for David like that. They didn’t seem to have the most loving sibling relationship, at least in traditional terms.

They walked in silence for a block. “Do you know if David likes antiques? Is he one of those people who think old things are haunted and would rather die than have something pre-owned? Or more appreciate that the one-of-a-kind element to them?”

“Ooh why? Do you want to go buy a bunch of dead man’s clothes and swap them out for what’s in David’s closet? That could be fun. I haven’t pulled a good prank on him in a while.”

How had she come up with that idea so fast? Alexis was something else. “I was thinking of asking him to visit a few stops on the antique trail.” He noticed her soft smile, so he cleared his throat and added, “So we can find things for the shop and do some marketing reconnaissance.” He worked to keep his tone casual. 

He felt Alexis studying him as they walked, but he kept his stare trained ahead of them. Alexis appeared flighty, but she was perceptive and savvy from what Patrick had seen so far. Not all the time, but she kept him on his toes.

“As long as you plan snack stops, I’m sure he’d love it. It might give him something to look forward to after today.” She sounded sad and worried. A worried Alexis had Patrick feeling a dose of David-level anxiety.

What the hell was going on? He hoped David would open up to him.

“Shit.” Alexis stopped in her tracks.

Patrick did too. “What?” He followed her line of sight and he landed on a tall, lean man who looked like he had pulled his clothes from a dumpster. His hair was tall and messy, but in a way that probably took hours to style. “Who’s that?” Patrick’s hackles rose.

“Sebastien Raine.”

The way she said the name sent a chill down his spine, but he didn’t understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forking Sebastien Raine!!!!! Such a monster.


	6. Chapter 6

The gentle scrubbing of his favorite suede sneakers with a nail brush was just what David needed to work through the assaulting bouquet of emotions that had taken over his morning. His first conscious thoughts of the day were of Patrick. Patrick’s teasing eyes and warm smiles. Hearing Sebastien’s name in the same moment was just… incorrect. 

David’s stomach growled. He knew it wasn’t over hunger, but the image of Patrick’s sweet face when David had snapped at him. “Shit.” His scrubbing had grown frantic. Patrick had got him coffee and his favorite pastry, and David had thanked him by biting his head off for the gesture. Real nice.

A warmth spread through his chest, chasing away the flush of embarrassment was chased away by a warmth spreading through his chest. Patrick had noticed and remembered his favorite coffee and pastry. He wasn’t sure Alexis would know what to order, and they were together all the time. Stevie would have gotten him black coffee just to watch him squirm. 

Ugh. One step closer to getting Patrick to run for the hills like everyone else he’d ever gotten close to besides Stevie. If he would push Patrick away with his mood swings, at least he could wait to do it until _after_ the store opened.

The bell they’d hung over the door chimed. David wanted to get the apology out of the way. Patrick deserved that much. He yelled from the back room. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I’m just in a bad mood because—”

“Cute place.”

David’s blood ran cold at that husky, nasally voice. Sebastien. No, no, no. What the hell was he doing in there? That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. David being caught off guard and scrambling. If he needed to run into Sebastien, he wanted to be in control of the circumstances. As much as Sebastien invading Schitt’s Creek would allow. 

That’s it. David would spend all day in the stockroom and away from the giant windows at the front of the store. Alexis had _strict_ instructions to tail mother and Sebastien to keep them the hell away from him. 

Oh, he and Alexis would have words later. Lots of them. She owed him a bed swap after that. Let her get murdered first.

David looked into the beveled mirror he had hung over the stock room sink and fixed his hair. He took a step toward the main room. His socked foot slid a bit. Crap. His shoes. He looked over at the drying pair and debated between wearing wet shoes or claiming wearing socks on hardwood was the latest cleaning trend. 

Patrick strode through the doorway to the storage room. “Here.” A bead of sweat dripped down his temple as he placed the shoebox on a table near David.

David could hear Alexis giving Sebastien a tour.

Patrick was David’s lifeline. Patrick didn’t look away. His eyebrows tilted together and his posture open. David knew to the core of his being that Patrick knew something was up and he wanted to help. He worried about David.

That knowledge gave David a desperately needed boost of confidence. He took a step toward Patrick.

“David, I don’t know who he is, but I can tell by your sister’s behavior that he’s not someone we want here. I don’t know how to help but tell me what you need. Anything.”

David looked down into Patrick’s earnest eyes and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll explain everything later. He’s why I was such an ass earlier.” David held the embrace for longer than was necessary. Patrick’s body was flush against his. They fit like puzzle pieces. David’s hands easily went around Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick’s arms around his waist. He was strong, sturdy, and David didn’t want to let go. Nor was he ready to evaluate the flood of emotions invading his body. Emotions that had nothing to do with Sebastien. “And thank you for the coffee and pastry. I’m sorry I’m an asshole.”

Patrick laughed, and David felt the reverberation of rush through him. He stepped back before his body got a bit too excited about the contact.

“Your being here helps.” He felt his cheeks flush at the honest admission. Patrick had the grace to look away, but his smile grew. 

Feeling bolstered, David pulled his shoes out of the box. There was a pair of socks in there too. “Alexis thought to pack socks?” 

Patrick shook his head. “I wasn’t sure if your socks got wet, so I figured I’d play it safe.” His soft smile had returned, but then his eyes grew wide. “Alexis grabbed them for me. I didn’t go rifling through your stuff.”

David’s socks weren’t wet, but they were dirty from the floor and he didn’t want Patrick’s gesture to go to waste, so he changed his socks and slid on the clean shoes. Standing, he straightened his white sweater. Sebastien always told him he looked good in white. The abstract pattern on that one looked faintly like a series of hands flipping the bird. Fitting.

“Now or never.” David took a steadying breath and squeezed Patrick’s shoulder before striding into the front room. He heard Patrick step behind him.

Alexis was busy describing the concept of David’s store to Sebastien. She finally had it nailed down. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Sebastien.”

His ex-boyfriend spun around. “David. Still looking fabulous in white, I see.”

“Like an angel.” David held his head high and jutted out his chin.

He wanted to curl in a ball and eat a jumbo pizza on his own, but having Alexis and Patrick there gave him strength. Even if they didn’t know they were providing it. Some might say “energy vampire.” He said relying on people he cared about.

Alexis stood a step or two behind Sebastien as the man went on and on about his impressions of the store, the town and its people. Flowery language that rarely said anything nice. She snuck looks back at David and kept mouthing words at him. He caught “I’m sorry” and “kill me later.” 

Sebastien turned around and walked toward David with his arms outstretched. “I’ve missed you, babe.”

Babe. Coldness rush through David’s body like he had submerged himself in an ice bath. That word from Sebastien’s lips had once caused an opposite reaction, but now it had him wanting to peel off a layer or two of skin in a scalding hot shower.

Before David changed his mind, and before Sebastien reached him, he reacted. He took a step toward Patrick and wrapped his arm around Patrick’s shoulder. Easy to do since he was a full head taller than him. “Sebastien, this is Patrick. My boyfriend.”

He felt Patrick go rigid under his arm. What the hell was he saying? He had no right to put Patrick in that situation. If Patrick turned around and laughed at him, stormed out and never came back, David wouldn’t blame him. Why did he always get himself into these stupid situations with his impulsivity?

He ignored Alexis’s wide eyes as she mouthed, “Oh my god” with an enormous smile. He preened that she hadn’t mouthed, “Eww!”

An arm snaked around David’s waist. “Hi, Sebastien. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Let’s not oversell it,” David muttered while holding his fakest, closed-mouth smile, but the feeling of Patrick’s arm possessively around his waist was _thrilling_. A dozen crows seemed to flap their wings in his chest.

Sebastien looked between them both. A fresh interest sparked in his eye as he studied Patrick. Fresh meat. New challenge.

Off. Fucking. Limits.

Whoa. Where did that come from? Seeing Sebastien had him feeling primal. 

“Good for you. You look happy.” Sebastien’s words didn’t match his expression. “I was really hoping we’d get some time together.” He held David’s stare. “To catch up.”

Patrick hooked his thumb in the front pocket of David’s pants and tightened his grip around David’s hips. David lost all ability to reason. Possibly even to speak. The pockets in his skinny jeans weren’t exactly loose, and Patrick had to push to jam his thumb in there. 

“We’re super busy getting the store ready for launch. I don’t know if we have any free time, do we, honey?” Patrick looked up at him and squeezed his hips again. His eyes danced. David sagged when he didn’t find the frustration he had expected in Patrick’s eyes.

“Right. Super busy. Babe.” David cleared his throat. “I would have expected all of your time is busy with my mother. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Of course. But if you find any time, David, I’d like to talk with you.” Sebastien looked between him and Patrick. David’s posture straightened when the confident smirk fell away from Sebastien’s face.

David studied his ex and wondered how he’d ever found the shaggy hair and shitty, over-priced fashion appealing. “Maybe next time. Patrick and I have a busy day.”

“Tomorrow?” Sebastien looked at David. He used that stern expression that used to get David to do whatever he wanted.

The instinct to agree floated by him, but he didn’t grab at it. Before, he would have clutched onto it like a lifeline. He had a lifeline. A healthy lifeline. A lifeline whose strong shoulders and arm held him up. He rubbed his thumb across Patrick’s bicep in appreciation for his strength.

“We’ve got a full day planned tomorrow,” Patrick said, cheerfully. He was having way too much fun with David’s discomfort. Fair payback for how he’d treated Patrick earlier.

“We do?” David looked at him.

Patrick hooked his thumb further into David’s pocket and all breath left him.

David cleared his throat. “We do.”

Sebastien smiled. “You’ve got my number, David. I hope you use it.”

Brazen hussy. Flirting so openly in front of David’s boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. Yeah, fake boyfriend.

“Mother is waiting. Let’s go, Sebastien, I’ll take you to the café.” Alexis hooked her arm through Sebastien’s and pulled him out of the store. She looked back at them and winked. All trace of apology replaced by an annoying smugness. As though her broken promise of keeping Sebastien away had been the goal all along.

David watched Sebastien and Alexis leave.

Neither he nor Patrick disengaged themselves from each other. David allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of someone else’s warmth and comfort. Patrick’s warmth.

Okay, three more seconds.

Three.

Two.

Two-and-a-half.

Two-and-a-quarter.

Two-and-a-third?

One.

David unwrapped his arm from Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick pulled his own from David’s waist. David immediately felt cold. And embarrassed. He walked toward the storage room.

“Not so fast, David Rose. You’ve got some splainin' to do.”

David scrunched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, holding in a laugh, before he turned back around to face Patrick.

“You’re right, I do. You could have told Sebastien I was full of shit.”

“Yup.” Patrick stood with his arms folded over his chest. His pecs looked even bigger when he did that. 

“You could run out there and tell him I’m a sad, single, lonely man living in the world’s most boring town.”

Patrick nodded once. “I could.”

“You could leave and never come back,” David said, his voice softer.

“That’s true.” Patrick’s voice was soft, non threatening.

David stared at Patrick. He didn’t know what else to say. 

Patrick put his hands in his pockets and rocked up on his heels. “I told you I’d help in any way I could and I’m glad you accepted my offer. You can count on me, David.” Patrick’s eyes were so welcoming. “For anything.”

David’s body warmed up at the sight of Patrick’s sweet smile. “Thank you.”

Patrick clapped his hands. “What do you want to get done today?”

David blinked a few times. He wasn’t going to grill David about Sebastien? “Don’t you want to know what that was all about?” 

“Absolutely. You’ll be telling me all about it tomorrow because you’re spending the day with me, but I won’t push you now because I can tell that seeing him—whatever his connection to you is—was unexpected and unwanted.” Patrick walked around David into the storage room.

David followed, ignoring how endearingly perceptive he was. “I spend every day with you. We’re setting up a freaking store. You want to waste your day off with me?”

“You’re spending the day with me away from the store. I wasn’t lying to Sebastien. You are going to be busy tomorrow.” Patrick picked up his laptop, then turned to face David. “And time with you is never a waste.”

#

“How did it go with Sebastien today?” Stevie walked over and plopped on the couch next to David. “Alexis told me about it.”

“Lovely. I’m so glad to have a representative in my friendships so I don’t have to speak for myself.” David squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and blew out a breath. Stevie didn’t deserve the brunt of his frustration. “It didn’t. He’s gone now.” Thank God his mom had figured out Sebastien’s actual project idea and told him where he could shove his memory card. David picked at a fraying thread on the motel office couch’s arm. 

“No action?” Stevie made a rude gesture with her hands. “No hate sex? That’s always the best.”

“Oh my God.” David gaped at her. “Eww. I just saw him at the shop for a few minutes, but Patrick kept me busy, so I didn’t have to see him before he left last night. He texted more than a dozen times though.”

Having the upper hand for once with Sebastien was a heady feeling. If it weren’t for Patrick’s support, okay, and the ways he’d changed in Schitt’s Creek, he would have texted Sebastien back immediately and snuck him into an empty room at the motel for a booty call. And then immediately regretted it. Not giving in to that impulsive response left him feeling stronger. More capable. 

“Patrick kept you busy, eh? It’s about time you two got that out of your system.”

David’s head snapped to the left. “What?”

Stevie looked at him like he had two heads. “Bang it out so you can focus on the business. The sexual tension between you two is getting disgusting. I didn’t understand the phrase ‘the sexual tension is palpable’ until you two came along. If someone looks that phrase up in a dictionary, your pictures would be there. If—”

“Okay! I get it.” He pinched his lips together and shifted them to the side. “There’s no sexual tension. He’s my business coach or whatever.” But he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his mouth, so he bit the inside of his cheek. Hearing that there was sexual tension from a third party was thrilling. Maybe it wasn’t in his head.

“Saying you two don’t have sexual tension is about as true as saying this motel will earn a five-star rating from AAA.”

David’s growing excitement crashed back down to earth. “Stevie, he’s straight. He shops at Gap. Come on.” The possessiveness in his grip when his arm had been around David’s waist sure hadn’t felt very straight, though.

Stevie rearranged herself on the couch to sit on her legs and face David head-on. “Just like I assumed you were gay until... ” She quirked her mouth. “Impressions and assumptions aren’t facts.”

David leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I can’t argue with your logic on that one.”

“Have you ever asked him his sexual preferences?”

“God, no.” David felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Hey Patrick, what do you think about a mark-up on these beeswax candles? Also, can you tell me about your opinions on dicks and butt stuff? Come on.”

Stevie got up and walked back over to the desk, her body shaking with laughter. “Do me a favor and ask him. Put me out of my misery because I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.” She sat on her usual perch. “But don’t you dare ask him in like that. ‘Butt stuff’ is a terrible phrase.”

“He’s taking me antiquing tomorrow, maybe I’ll try to find out.” David felt Stevie’s stare heavy on his skin. “Antiquing for the business. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Stevie smirked. 

The door swung open. “David! David. You have to see this.” Alexis barged in and dropped onto the couch next to him. She shoved her phone in his face and he saw his favorite kilted yoga instructor.

“Did Hamish post a new yoga tutorial?” Hamish had the best yoga videos, and it had nothing to do with the kilt and nothing underneath. Mostly nothing. Okay, that was part of it. But seriously, his yoga classes were great.

“David, hear me out. I have an idea and I think it’s really good.”

David and Stevie locked eyes. Alexis had a lot of ideas, and they were rarely—RARELY—good.

“You guys, seriously. It’s a good one.” She tsked. “Rude. Anyway. He’s doing a yoga retreat just a few hours from here and there are still spaces.”

“I can’t afford that, Alexis.”

She grinned and bounced on the couch. “Pay for it out of the business.”

David threw up his hands. “Oh no. I’m not doing that again. I learned all about tax deductions after working at the Blouse Barn. Gallivanting off to a yoga retreat isn’t a business expense.”

Alexis looked like she would burst. “Unless you’re going to talk to him about becoming the Ontario supplier of his line of hand-crafted Scottish goods. Read this.”

She shoved her phone back in his face. The little dangly thing she had attached to it rested on the back of his hand. Such a weird accessory. 

As David read, his breathing grew shorter. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

David looked up at her.

“What?” Stevie looked up from her computer. Probably playing solitaire. “I don’t have X-ray vision you know. Can someone fill me in?”

“Hamish posted on his Instagram that he wants to identify rural stores in each Canadian province to partner with. Some Commonwealth project where he wants to bring rural Scotland to rural Canada.” Alexis turned her attention from Stevie back to him. “If you go to this yoga retreat, I bet you could wow him and land the deal. It could be huge for your store, David. He has such a gigantic social media following!”

David’s body tingled from his head to the tips of his toes. He couldn’t wait to tell Patrick.

Patrick.

“Do you think I should bring Patrick? For the numbers and business-y stuff?”

Alexis and Stevie looked at each other.

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, definitely.”

David pressed his lips between his front teeth. “Okay, yeah. This could be good.” For the business. Not watching Patrick contort into a variety of shapes.

“I told you it was a good idea.” Alexis reached out and touched the tip of his nose. “Boop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patrick Brewer is the button-iest button of all the buttons!


	7. Chapter 7

Patrick studied himself in the mirror. Surely the third shirt had to be the one. It took all of his self-control to not text Alexis and ask her to help him pick out an outfit that would both have him feeling confident and David not embarrassed. He’d ask Stevie, but Patrick knew David wouldn’t like flannel.

The short-sleeved Henley accentuated his muscles a bit and looked sort of country casual and trendy when paired with his best jeans. He thought his button-up shirts looked dressier, but he felt better in the Henley. Kinda sexy. 

Even if nothing happened with David, he would ride it out for a while to at least learn more about himself and his attractions. Or at least that’s what the therapist had suggested when they had texted earlier in the morning. But he wanted more with David. Much more. His logical brain warned him not to get too involved because he wasn’t planning to stick around. Did that matter, though? Single or long-term relationships weren’t the only options. They were his preferred methods, but some casual dating and a crush could be the perfect transition into his gay identity. Something in him warned that there would be nothing casual if something happened with David. Patrick would fall too hard, too fast. That voice could just shut up for a while.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up at the motel and parked. Before he could turn off the car to go knock on David’s door, it opened, and David stepped out. He had a hand in the air, his middle finger blazing. “Eat glass, Alexis.” David’s voice carried through Patrick’s open window. His right hand carried a tray with coffees and pastry bags.

Patrick felt his face split into a huge grin. He unlocked the door and reached across the seat to push it open. 

“Have funnnnnnn!” Alexis stood at the doorway and clapped a few times in rapid succession. 

David let out a sharp sigh as he climbed into the car. “Let’s get out of here before I get arrested for murdering my sister.”

Alexis waved her fingers at them and Patrick gave a single wave back before throwing his car in reverse.

“Rough morning.”

“Rough life. Living with my sister isn’t for the weak, especially when she gets in a teasing mood.” He handed Patrick a coffee and bag. “Here. To make up for yesterday. Black coffee and a ham and cheese croissant.”

David looked so pleased with himself. The annoyance with Alexis appeared to be a distant memory. Patrick really liked it when his mouth did that pinch-y thing to the side. “You know my order.”

David nodded once, almost bouncing with glee in the seat. 

Patrick did a quick mental calculation. He was already pushing it by asking David to be ready to go earlier than they usually started at the store, but David had gotten up even earlier to get to the café before Patrick arrived at the hotel. A thoughtful David was pretty… sexy. Patrick bit his lip. Allowing himself to even think those kinds of words about another man had his heart racing. 

David Rose had forced Patrick to confront some things, and he would forever be grateful to him for that.

“What was she teasing you about?” He placed the coffee in his go-to cupholder and pulled the croissant half out of the bag so he could easily hold it with one hand while driving with the other. Judging by Alexis’s expressions yesterday when he and David had his arms around each other, he had a feeling he knew what the teasing was about, but he wanted to hear David say it.

“Nothing.” David adjusted himself in the seat, angling his knees toward Patrick.

“You’re right, getting teased about nothing sounds suuuper annoying. You poor thing. Gonna be okay?” He patted David’s thigh before his logical brain could scream at him to abort. Before he gave himself a chance to debate whether he wanted to leave his hand there, he pulled it back and shifted his car into reverse.

David let out an annoyed sigh. “Fine. She was teasing me about us. She said we looked ‘cute’ yesterday. So gross.”

“Is it?” Patrick hated how vulnerable his voice sounded. 

He felt David’s eyes on him. Heavy against his skin like one of David’s cashmere sweaters. 

Where had this boldness come from? With Rachel, he rarely ever said what was on his mind if it was anything remotely serious. He had always said what he knew she wanted to hear, whether that’s what he wanted to say. But with David, the filter wasn’t there. For better or worse.

“No. It’s not gross at all.” 

“That’s it? It’s not gross?”

Patrick glanced at David and found him smiling softly. 

“What are you kidnapping me to do today? My family can’t afford a ransom.”

Patrick loved David’s playful moods. “I don’t think it’s a kidnapping if the victim goes willingly.”

“So, you’re saying I’m a victim? Of what? Are you going to force me to go shopping at the mall? Or eat a kale smoothie?”

Patrick’s smile widened. The banter was one thing he loved most about being around David. He kept Patrick on his toes.

“We’re hitting the Rural Ontario Antique Trail to see if there’s anything that would work with your vision for the store and scout out some marketing opportunities.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Don’t worry, we will have food stops. I’ve got a few options mapped out, depending on what you’re in the mood for.”

“This business outing is already better than any date I’ve had.”

Patrick didn’t like it being called a business outing, but he wasn’t sure what else he would call it. Or what he wanted to call it. But spending a day antiquing with David sounded like a great time either way. It was probably his own fault for leading with it being connected to the store.

_Just say it’s a date. Just tell him you want it to be a date._ Patrick was working on building his nerve, but when David launched into some annoying thing his sister did the night before, he let the moment pass.

They chatted easily to the first stop. Patrick wanted to ask him about Sebastien, but he didn’t want to sour David’s mood so early in the day. 

By the end of their second stop, they found a David-approved clock for the store, got agreements from both stores to display Rose Apothecary brochures, and David had shared several hilarious stories about his New York days and interactions he’d had with ridiculous customers at his galleries.

“He tried so hard to dab the red wine off of the sculpture, but it kept getting bigger. The artist was absolutely horrified. It ended up being a twenty-five-thousand-dollar glass of merlot for that guy.” David laughed.

Patrick had a hard time conceptualizing how different their worlds were. Or had been before David had come to Schitt’s Creek.

David’s stomach growled. Right on time. Patrick had learned David’s hunger schedule better than his own.

“Do you want to stop at a cafe with fancy sandwiches or a French bistro? Both have good reviews on Yelp.”

“French Bistro!” David grinned. “Yum.”

Twenty minutes later, they sat at a window overlooking a small-town Main Street. A much cuter town than Schitt’s Creek and a town more fitting for Rose Apothecary, but David’s business would hopefully help to bring in more money into Schitt’s Creek so they could improve it to look more like that downtown.

David’s mouth curved into a soft smile and he stared out the window for several minutes as Patrick watched him. 

“Happy?”

David turned his attention to Patrick. “Very. It’s nice to be in another town and eating somewhere other than Café Tropical.” David looked down. “And great company.”

Patrick let his full smile take over his face. 

“Agreed.”

They placed their orders and sat in a comfortable silence. With Rachel, Patrick always tried to fill the silence because he was worried what it meant. With David, he wasn’t worried at all about what it meant because he didn’t feel like he was constantly afraid of messing everything up and showing how uncomfortable he was.

“I feel like I should tell you about Sebastien.” David kept looking out the window.

Patrick’s heart rate kicked up a couple of notches. He hadn’t been sure how to bring it up but was relieved he didn’t have to. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I was just teasing you yesterday.”

David stayed quiet for so long that Patrick thought he had changed his mind. “You’ve become important to me, Patrick, and I want to share more of myself with you. I feel like I can trust you.” David looked at him, his eyes shiny.

Patrick wanted to move to the other side of the table and sit next to him, comfort him and thank him for trust he knew David didn’t give often, but he feared any sudden movement would frighten him off like a scared squirrel. “Thank you for trusting me.” He played with the edge of his napkin. “You’ve become important to me too.” 

Saying that simple statement was harder than telling Rachel he loved her for the first time, asking her to marry him, calling off the wedding. None of those experiences made him feel vulnerable. Guilty? Sure. But vulnerable? Nah.

“Sebastien was my ex.”

“I had assumed that, but that’s as far as I’d assumed.”

Patrick felt pulled in two directions. On one hand, he had full confirmation that David liked men. Patrick had already guessed that, but he didn’t want to assume because everyone had assumed he was straight for the past thirty years and that was looking more and more like a definite oversight. On the other hand, Sebastien was conventionally attractive in a tall, well-dressed, model-y sort of way. Like David.

Patrick had a lopsided smile, unlucky in the height department, and would probably start getting a receding hairline in a few years if his dad was anything to go by.

Sebastien and Patrick were in different galaxies.

“I have a lot of exes, but Sebastien is _that_ ex.”

Patrick swallowed hard. “The one who got away?” His voice sounded rough to his own ears.

David frowned. “Ew, God no. The one who ruined me.”

Patrick studied David. “Ruined you?”

“Here you are, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can get you for the moment?”

“No, thank you.” David reached for his silverware after the waiter walked away. “Are you offended by talking and eating? Because I’m starving and I think shame eating this entire meal will help me get through this story.”

Patrick laughed “There’s nothing shameful about eating. He placed a napkin over his lap. “Talk and eat all you want. I’ll listen.”

As David opened up and shared the terrible things Sebastien did to him, Patrick shoveled his face with food to avoid saying something he’d regret. No one deserved to be treated in that way. No one.

“I think I’m just now starting to realize the damage he did to me, and how many of my bad behaviors are connected to that experience and to him. The narcissism, the gaslighting, the flings he kept having and lying to me about. He simultaneously paraded me around like a trophy wife while making himself seem better by treating me poorly.” David took a sip of his coffee.

Patrick sorted through the caveman responses threatening to come out of his mouth to something sensible. “What kind of damage are you realizing?”

David stabbed at a remaining piece of chicken on his plate. “That I think I’m unlovable and I’m no one’s long term. I’m the pit stop on the way to something better.” He looked out the window. “That I’m too much for anyone to handle.”

“David.” Patrick reached out and put his hand on top of David’s, ignoring the jolt that raced up his arm. “Those are all lies you’re telling yourself to protect you from further harm and taking risks.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil.” A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of David’s mouth. David didn’t pull his hand away, but he didn’t turn it over either to grasp Patrick’s. That was probably for the best.

Patrick hoped David wouldn’t press and ask for reciprocal stories about his ex’s. He wasn’t ready to tell David about Rachel because that would force Patrick to either try to explain how he’d been engaged to a woman and wasn’t straight or that he was thinking he was definitely gay but hadn’t tested the theory out yet. Not that it needed to be tested out. He had assumed he was straight before testing that one out. Either way, it seemed way too complicated for some weekend antiquing. 

“I’m serious. I know your go-to is using humor to deflect serious shit. Believe me, I get it.” He squeezed David’s hand once before pulling his own back. “You are absolutely someone’s forever. You’re not too much for anyone to handle. More like Sebastien wasn’t enough for you to handle. He’s a weak man who needs to hurt other people to make himself feel better and he missed out on being with someone amazing.”

He glanced at David before getting back to his meal. He didn’t miss the tear running down his cheek.

David cleared his throat. “Thank you. I almost believe you when you say things so earnestly like that.”

Patrick vowed to make sure David believed him someday. Even if it was by being a good friend and coaxing David out of his shell by helping him learn to trust again. Even if that meant he coaxed David out to become someone else’s forever person when Patrick moved onto the next business to help launch. Even if he and David…

The delicious lunch settled like a rock in Patrick’s stomach at the thought of leaving Rose Apothecary, and David, behind. David wasn’t his future. What were the odds that running from his family and ex-fiancée to the above-garage apartment in his uncle’s rural town would lead to meeting the love of one’s life? Patrick was one of a thousand blips in David’s life. David had better things in store than what Patrick could give him, and Patrick needed to figure some things out about himself first before he could even try to be a partner to anyone else.

#

“Thanks for today. I really needed a fun day outside of Schitt’s Creek. Even if it was a business outing.” The flirtiest business outing of all time. He should just ask if it was a date. David held out the bag of chocolate-covered almonds to Patrick. He grabbed a few while he drove.

“You’re welcome.” Patrick glanced over and stuck a few fingers in the bag to grab a few almonds. “I had a great time.”

“Even when I poured my heart out about my ex while I trapped you at a table with me with no escape?” David said it jokingly, but the tips of his ears burned.

“Especially that. We get along great, but it was nice to learn more about you. I know you don’t open up a lot to people and I truly appreciate you trusting me.”

The fact that Patrick had recognized how hard it had been for David, and how rare it was, proved exactly why he felt comfortable doing it. Patrick was unlike anyone he had ever met. Oh, Canada. 

He wanted to ask Patrick to open up and share more of his history, but it didn’t seem fair to offer his own and demand the same from Patrick in return. He needed to earn Patrick’s trust as Patrick had earned his. The more he talked about Sebastien, the more glaring it had become at lunch, just how little he knew about Patrick’s past. Sure, he knew where he was from, that he loved sports and business things, some stuff about his family, but David couldn’t shake the feeling that Patrick had been leaving out significant parts of his life.

“Careful what you wish for or I’ll start regaling you with stories of my friends who stopped returning my texts after my family lost our money.” His light tone didn’t match the bite of his words. He needed to stop while Patrick considered David’s trust as a cute way to open up and not veer into the wasteland of being a complete mess. 

“Who needs them when you have Stevie. She wouldn’t stab you in the back, but in the front so she could ridicule you to your face of how you’re bleeding.” Patrick smirked.

They both knew that Stevie was a fantastic friend, but she sure was a beloved and shared butt of some of their jokes.

Thinking of Stevie reminded him of sitting in the office with her and Alexis last night. Since he had Patrick trapped in a car and the heavy conversation out of the way, it seemed like the best time to bring up the retreat. “Do you know Hamish McDougal?”

“Not familiar with the name. A vendor you’re working with?”

David popped an almond in his mouth. “He’s a… Scottish businessman.” He had no idea how to present this to Patrick in a way that wouldn’t include having to do some major arm-twisting and favor-owing. 

“Scottish? That sounds cool. Is he doing a similar thing in Scotland?” Patrick glanced over at David.

“Kinda. He’s looking for a few rural Canadian stores to partner with that would carry popular Scottish hand-crafted things. Like tweed and wool accessories.”

Patrick nodded. “Awesome. Are you thinking of expanding vendors beyond Ontario?”

David’s heartbeat raced. He may not know a lot about Patrick’s past, but spending nearly every day together for weeks had given him some insight on how Patrick’s mind worked and just how to get him interested in something. Here went nothing.

“I think so. We’ve lined up some amazing local vendors, but adding a couple of international ones could really put the store on the map, you know? Diversifying our product sources seems like a smart business move too. What if there’s a massive, local weather event that wipes out crops in the area? We could be screwed if our supply is low. Increasing the breadth of our suppliers could reduce our risk.” David sent a silent prayer that the business arguments he’d practiced in his mind last night when he thought about how to bring this up to Patrick would sound somewhere near accurate.

Patrick bit his lip and stared straight ahead. His cheeks were flushed. David knew that kind of look. He’d seen it hundreds of times in bars, across restaurants, over art in galleries. Patrick was turned on! Oh. My. God. Talking business had turned on Patrick Brewer. David pressed his thumb into his thigh as hard as he could to stop himself from laughing. And also, to distract himself from the intense urge to grab Patrick’s face and kiss him until they lost their breath. Or both died in a car accident. Yeah, bad idea.

David may not have the guts to ask Patrick if he was at least bi, but he was now certain Patrick was curious, at minimum. 

“Adding an international vendor could open up opportunities for finding other international vendors. Could you imagine if we had an entire arm to the business focused on Commonwealth goods? Maybe we could find a vendor in Australia too. I could shuffle a display around and do a rotating international display. The change-up of the goods could give customers a reason to come back. Don’t you think?” David was just fucking with him now.

Patrick shifted in his seat like he was trying to relieve some pressure. David risked a glance at Patrick’s lap, but he’d shifted his grip on the steering wheel to block David’s view. 

“To make this happen, I will need your help.”

“Anything.” Patrick cleared his throat. “Whatever you need.”

Time to go for the touch run. Home down? Field basket? Ugh. Sportsball score or whatever. “Perfect. He’s going to be in town next weekend, and I’ve gotten us an appointment with him.” David felt like he was walking on ice of an uncertain solidness. Here’s hoping it was thick enough to hold his weight. 

“I’m free next weekend. Is it a lunch meeting?”

David tried for a casual tone. “Yup, there’s lunch involved.” Shit. His voice went high.

Patrick glanced over. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Double shit. “I really do need your help with this.”

“David.” Patrick’s voice was a mix between a sexy growl and a warning.

“Hamish is a Scottish businessman, and he’s looking for rural Canadian businesses to partner with. He’s also a yoga instructor and I’ve booked us at his yoga retreat next weekend so we can talk to him about working together.”

Patrick’s knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel. “A _yoga_ retreat?” he ground out. “I don’t do yoga.”

David waved a hand. “You’re super athletic. You’ll be fine.”

Patrick’s mouth started to form a smile but went serious again. “David, I’m not going to a yoga retreat.”

Time to test out his trust muscles again. “I don’t think I can do this without you.” He turned to look at Patrick. “Coach.”

Patrick’s head whipped to the side so fast David thought he would jerk the car into a one-eighty. “Coach?” He let out a soft, strangled groan. 

“I could use your support and you could talk about all the numbers and projections while I talk about how his products fit with the vision for the store. I don’t know the numbers like you do.”

“I could prepare some flash cards for you or something.”

“Could you even imagine? I’d mess it all up. The numbers are your thing and I’m the creative.”

Patrick seemed quiet for a moment. “So, you need me to pinch hit?”

“Mm. Yes, that.” He didn’t know what it meant, but sure. “Plus, I’ve been doing his classes for years, so I’ll be able to feed his ego.”

Patrick’s gaze snapped back to the road ahead. “You do yoga?”

“Almost every day.”

Patrick’s arms moved again on the steering wheel.

“Will you go? I promise you don’t have to do any classes you don’t want to.”

“Promise?”

David nodded. “Road trip!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost yoga tiiiiiime!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: things are heating up in this chapter

“I had your sister throw a little road trip gift in your suitcase. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.” Stevie’s mouth quirked up.

“Snacks? I don’t think I bought enough of them.” The plastic grocery bags crinkled in his hand.

Stevie laughed. “Sure. Yeah, snacks.”

David frowned. “That sounds ominous.”

Gravel crunched under car tires. “He’s here! I get to meet Hamish!” David waggled his eyebrows and shimmied his shoulders. If this opportunity had come up a few months ago, he’d probably have been scheming on how he could have a weekend fling with Hamish and his kilt instead of developing a business partnership.

But then Patrick came along.

Patrick would look _great_ in a kilt. And those knee-high sock things. Oooh, and the fuzzy thing hanging over his groin that could carry condoms and lube anywhere.

Stevie clicked on the ancient computer mouse. “Do you think he’ll wear the kilt during the retreat?”

“God, I hope so.” A kilted yoga teacher was his favorite kind of yoga teacher. Especially during headstands.

“If you and Hamish get… acquainted… I expect a full report. Photos would be even better. Do you think it hits his chin during the headstands?”

“Why Stevie Budd, you pervert.” David turned and opened the door of the hotel office. “Let’s hope so.”

“I’d settle for pictures of Patrick in a kilt,” she yelled after him.

He ignored her comment and wheeled his weekender suitcase and toiletry bag to Patrick’s car. He _also_ ignored the burning on the tip of his ears.

The trunk of Patrick’s car popped open. David looked at Patrick’s duffel bag and smiled. The most adorkable dork. It looked more like a gym bag than luggage. He carefully placed his designer suitcases in there, trying to avoid scratching them. He climbed in the passenger seat and dropped the plastic bags at his feet.

“What are those?”

“Road trip snacks, duh. Haven’t you been on a road trip before?”

Patrick looked down at the bulging bags, and his eyes widened. David felt silly. Maybe he overdid it at the grocery store.

“Yeah, a few of them. Have you?”

“Nope.” He buckled his seatbelt. “The movies always show snacks, and I want this to be an authentic experience. When in Schitt’s Creek, you know?”

Patrick regarded him. David looked away. “What’s that look for?”

“Sometimes I forget that we come from such different worlds.”

David’s stomach sank.

“And how much that doesn’t matter. I’m glad you brought snacks. Got any sunflower seeds?”

Patrick always knew the right thing to say. David reached down and grabbed a bag, ripping the top open. He took the Styrofoam cup he’d nicked from the motel office and put it in a cupholder between them. “My research was very thorough.”

Patrick laughed as he pulled away from the motel. “How many teenage movies did you watch for this _thorough_ research?” He held out his hand and David eagerly filled it.

“Six. You’re lucky I didn’t make you watch them with me.”

“Thanks.” Patrick glanced over and winked at him. “I’d have watched them with you and even kept my complaining to a minimum.”

David felt so pleased with himself. He dumped a few sunflower seeds in his hand and mimicked Patrick, putting a few in his mouth. “I’ll remember that for next time.” He felt like he’d float away in a light breeze. “What do I do now?” He immediately regretted putting so many in his mouth at once. The hard shells threatened to shoot at Patrick’s windshield and pierce his throat like salty missiles.

Patrick’s exasperated laugh echoed through the car. “Try one at a time. You’re a rookie, you gotta build up to it.”

David’s cheeks burned. In his vast experience, that was bedroom talk.

“I have lots of experience from my baseball days.”

Patrick in a baseball uniform. His ass would look great in those little pants. A dribble of drool escaped down the corner of his mouth. Damn seeds!

“You try to organize them in your mouth and crack one at a time. The trick is not swallowing the shells but pushing them to one side until you’re ready to spit them out.”

“This is like some sporty version of tying a cherry stem.” David covered his mouth to avoid spitting out a seed while he spoke.

“Can you tie a cherry stem?”

“Obviously. I have been to slumber parties before.” David concentrated on cracking a seed and shifting the shell to the left side of his mouth. He used his front teeth to crack the seed. It wasn’t perfect, but he managed to not swallow the shell or choke. Definitely a good start.

After a couple of minutes, David realized they were both quiet. He looked over and saw Patrick watching him in between glances at the road.

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah, I think I got it. Thanks for the tips, coach.”

Patrick picked up the cup and spit into it. He handed it to David.

David avoided looking into it. He hadn’t really thought this through. Sharing a seed-spitting cup? Road trips were kinda weird. He turned his face away from Patrick when he spit into it with as little saliva as possible, then carefully put it back in the cup holder.

“Nice job, rookie.”

David beamed.

“Did you pick out a road trip playlist?”

David gasped. “No! Fuck! I knew I forgot something. Fuck.” He ruined the road trip before it had barely started.

Patrick kept one hand on the wheel and used the other to reach into his pocket. “Pick something out of my Spotify. I have unlimited data, so we can stream anything you like. Normally it’s driver’s choice, but I’ll defer to you since you’re the virgin.”

David’s fingers grazed Patrick’s hand when he grabbed the phone. “It’s been a while since I was a virgin at something.” He enjoyed watching Patrick’s Adam’s apple bob.

If he had one goal for the weekend, it was to find out if Patrick liked men. Well, two goals. The first goal was to secure a deal with Hamish, obviously. Okay, they were both tied for first.

By the end of the second hour in the car, David had Patrick singing along to Britney and Beyoncé. They had stopped for a bathroom break and at a viewpoint for photos. David had already saved their selfie to a new folder named P.

An hour later, they arrived at the retreat.

“It’s nice.” Patrick followed signs for the yoga retreat parking.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to expect.” The drive, lined with tall trees and manicured flowers, opened to a yellow Victorian home with red roofing tiles and off-white trim. There were several porches and balconies dotting the three stories. “That’s huge.” It looked like there was a large original house with a sizeable addition.

Once they found a spot, they climbed out of the car and followed the check-in signage.

“You’re walking a bit funny.”

Patrick’s stride was shorter than normal, and his movements were jerkier. “It’s nothing. Stiff from the drive.”

The more David thought about it, he had noticed Patrick moving funny each time they had stopped to get out of the car. Even after just twenty minutes when David had made him stop at a convenience store to get a candy bar, he hadn’t been able to get at the Schitt’s Creek grocery store.

“You look like you’re sore. Up your weights or something?” David had an inkling he knew what it was from because he remembered walking the same way when he had first started practicing yoga.

“Yup, extra weights.”

“Body weights? Like, your exact body weight? I’m looking for a new routine. I’d love to hear all about it.”

Patrick stopped and looked at David, narrowing his eyes. “Go ahead and laugh. I didn’t want to make a total fool of myself here, so I’ve been doing some practicing this week. Just like with any new physical thing, it comes with its own aches.”

“Does it?” The left side of David’s mouth turned up. He caught a flash of heat in Patrick’s eyes.

“I tried several YouTube tutorials.”

“Did you do Hamish’s classes?”

“No. I searched ‘Yoga for beginners’ but now I realize what a grave error that was. I probably should have done his classes to prep.” Patrick frowned.

“Wait, you haven’t looked up Hamish?” David couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you Google him or anything?”

“No, I was distracted.” Patrick’s eyes widened. “Oh no, David. What? Just tell me. What?”

David patted Patrick on the shoulder and kept walking. “You’ll see soon enough. Let’s go.”

#

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Patrick blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“Surpriiiise,” David’s voice trailed off as he gestured toward the kilted and topless man at the far end of the room talking to a small group of people.

Patrick did a double take. He was equal parts terrified and intrigued. Maybe his therapist was on to something when she had suggested he keep an eye out for other men he found himself attracted to. Men other than David Rose. Women and others too, so he could better understand his interests. So far, his orientation could be classified as Rosesexual.

Did finding David attractive mean that he found men attractive and was gay? Or was David the exception? The tall, lean yet muscular, golden-skinned, dark-haired exception. He was objectively _very_ attractive.

Patrick looked back at Hamish. He had a fleeting thought of curiosity about what he wore under that kilt. “Wait, is this the guy who always does those videos of handstands while wearing the kilt and it flops down to show his ass?”

“Shh!” David hissed, but Patrick could see him trying to hide a cheeky grin. “Yes, that’s him.”

Patrick looked up at the ceiling and groaned. “My mom shares those Facebook videos all the time. I can’t freaking believe it.” As the words left his mouth, he had to admit a part of him didn’t _hate_ the idea of seeing those handstands in person. That was a good sign, right?

“Maybe we can swing an autograph for your mom while we’re here. If he doesn’t sign it with his hand, he can sign it with his—”

“Checking in?” A petite woman with long, gray hair approached them.

David winked at Patrick, then turned to face her. “Yes, David Rose and Patrick Brewer.”

“Ah, yes. Our late registrants.” She looked down at her clipboard. “I’m sorry to say that we can’t accommodate your request for two rooms. Since you booked together, we put you in the same room. I hope that’s all right.” Her tone was friendly but didn’t indicate there was room for it to be anything but all right.

“Um, are there two beds at least?” David tugged back his lips in a fussy grimace, revealing his lower teeth and dimples.

“I’m afraid not, but there’s a loveseat. Let me get you checked in.”

Patrick and David stared at each other. Maybe he should find a hotel room nearby. One of the zero hotels they had passed on the way in. They were out in the middle of nowhere. It was more remote than Schitt’s Creek!

Oh well. It would be fine. Patrick tried to force his tensing body to relax. He’d crashed in hotel rooms with tons of guys over the years. Standard practice in the world of baseball.

But David was not a teammate.

He pinched his lips together. Well, maybe he kinda was. A business teammate. Team Rose Apothecary. Yeah, that’s it. He would just tell himself it was like being in a hotel for an away game. Except, instead of baseball, it was yoga. And instead of stinky bros eating potato chips by the bag, it was a sexy man who would probably never be caught dead in a baseball uniform.

Sexy man.

Patrick’s chest tightened.

“You okay? We can skip this if you’re uncomfortable. Or I could sleep in the car.”

Patrick looked up at David and appreciated the concern in his eyes.

“What would that do to your hair, though? I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.” He offered a smile he hoped David found reassuring. “It’s no problem at all David. We’ll figure it out.” Even if it meant he’d be sleeping in the bathtub.

Patrick’s anxiety continued to ratchet up as the woman checked them in and escorted them to their room in the large.

“Since we couldn’t accommodate separate rooms, I’ve given you the room with our second-best view. Hamish has the best view, of course.”

“Of course,” David replied.

They climbed two flights of stairs and passed by two small reading nooks. Rachel would have loved the place. It reminded him of where she had wanted to go on their honeymoon in Quebec.

Their guide unlocked a door on the third floor. “This is your room.” She pushed the door open and stepped back. David and Patrick walked inside. She sat the key on a small marble table next to the door. “There’s a welcome reception followed by dinner for retreat participants with Hamish in an hour. When you head downstairs, you can’t miss the dining room. See you then.”

She closed the door, leaving him and David alone in the room. Their room. The room that looked a lot like the bridal suite at the Quebec B&B.

“I’ll go get our bags.” Patrick turned. He had to get out of there.

“Whoa, hold on big guy.” David’s hand settled on his shoulder.

Patrick took a breath and turned back around.

“I can see those wheels turning in that brilliant head of yours. Either you’re thinking of how to murder me and leave me out here in the middle of nowhere, or you’re uncomfortable with this sleeping arrangement.” David pinched his lips together and shifted them to the side. No dimples that time though. Dimples meant he was delighted, no dimples meant he was nervous. He made a mental note to add encyclopedic knowledge of David’s dimples to his list of useless skills.

Patrick chuckled, but he could tell it sounded hollow. He wanted to turn back around and flee. Have a few minutes alone with his thoughts. Sharing a room with David would force him to _seriously_ confront all the feelings swirling around in his head. But maybe it was time. His therapist seemed to think so. She’d been very encouraging about his development so far.

If he left the room, he knew the moment would pass and he wouldn’t have to talk about it with David until the next time he had a small freak-out and David noticed. Just like with Rachel. Leave when it got uncomfortable and avoid talking about his feelings. Hide what he was really thinking. Avoid rocking the boat. Keeping his real thoughts to himself. Not being himself.

Understanding his sexuality was only a piece to finally understanding _who_ he really was. If he kept playing it safe, he would never get to know himself, and he was sick and tired of living like that.

Patrick looked down at his feet and hoped to find courage there. Something told him he could trust David. At least open up a little and see how David reacted.

“I am comfortable with the sleeping arrangement and I don’t plan to murder you unless you make me do yoga things I don’t want to.”

“Noted.” David nodded once.

“It’s this place. This room.” He took a deep breath. “It looks a lot like where my ex and I were going to go on our honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” David croaked out.

Patrick walked past David and dropped onto an antique sofa. He ran his fingers over the velour, shifting the texture forward and back. “Yeah. I was engaged.”

David sat on the edge of the bed. “I gathered that by the use of ‘honeymoon.’” He stared ahead then, gave his head a shake, shifting his attention to Patrick. “I’m listening if you’re comfortable sharing more.”

He couldn’t quite read David’s expression, but he had to take him at his word that he would listen. “She and I were supposed to be married a few months ago.”

“She?” David cleared his throat. “About the time you moved in with Wendy?”

Patrick put out a hand. “Rented her above-garage apartment.”

David rolled his eyes, but his lips formed into a faint smile.

“But, yes. I needed to get out of my hometown, and Schitt’s Creek was the only place I could think of and afford. I lost a lot of money in deposits and things.”

“Oh. So, it was pretty far along into the engagement?” David crossed one leg over the other and rested his hands on his knee.

Patrick nodded. “We were a month out.” Saying that aloud felt like a sharp knife piercing him in the gut. He wasn’t sure he would ever get over that guilt.

“Mm. That had to be tough.” There was no judgment in David’s tone. That encouraged him to go on.

“Yes, she was very upset. Understandably.” Patrick balled his fists before he caused permanent damage to the couch upholstery.

David studied Patrick. “I mean for you. It takes a lot of courage to do the hard thing, and sometimes calling things off is harder than just continuing in unhappiness.”

David’s words wrapped around Patrick like a weighted blanket; soothing his anxiety and forcing his body to relax. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for saying that. I thought I’d taken the easy way out.”

In a flash, David was off the bed and sitting next to Patrick. “Our brains are assholes, and sometimes they tell us the things they know will hurt us the most.”

Patrick nodded. “You’re smart, David Rose.”

“Obviously, but we’re not talking about my talents. We can talk about that later. I have many.”

Patrick grinned.

“Are you comfortable telling me why you called it off?”

Patrick looked at David and saw him rubbing the same part of the couch fabric back and forth. The tenderness in David’s voice nearly broke him. David sounded hesitant, almost hopeful.

Now or never.

“Being with Rachel meant not being myself and I just couldn’t do that to her or me. She deserves someone who loves her like a husband should.” Someone who loves women.

David’s head snapped up, and his eyes grew wide. Patrick could see his wheels turning.

“Loves her like a husband should?”

Patrick nodded.

“Because you didn’t love her specifically, or because you realized you didn’t want to marry a woman?” David said the last on a whisper.

Patrick swallowed hard. He wished he could see inside David’s head. Was David shocked at how dumb it sounded? It sounded dumb to Patrick.

Patrick glanced down at David’s hand then looked back into his dark eyes. “Because I’m gay.”

David’s pupils damn near exploded. His chest rose and fell with quick breaths. Quick breaths that matched Patrick’s own.

He said it aloud. He’s gay. Gay. Tension rolled down his body, leaving a lightness in its wake. His body felt aligned, somehow, for the first time. Like just saying it aloud had caused things to fall into place in his mind, body and spirit.

“You’re gay.” David’s face was closer.

“I am.” Patrick couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. Saying it felt _So. Fucking. Good._ “I’m gay.”

“You’re gay.” The corner of David’s mouth turned up and his dimples were out and proud in their full glory.

Patrick returned his full attention to David’s eyes. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I am but I haven’t been with a guy yet. Or even kissed one. Not that it matters though, because I thought I was straight before I’d ever kissed a girl.” He was rambling.

“Patrick, this may be wildly inappropriate, and it is _totally_ okay if you say no. Seriously. But could I kiss you? You know, for science.”

Patrick licked his lips. “For science?”

David blinked a few times and sat back. Whatever moment had been there evaporated. “Shit. Patrick, I’m sorry. I got so caught up in that.” He turned his body and faced forward, away from Patrick.

Patrick felt the loss immediately, and they weren’t even touching. Fuck. Fuck! David was about to kiss him. Fuck! Go back. Rewind.

David glanced at Patrick, then looked down at his hands. His fingernails scraped back and forth across the palm of his other hand. “You just told me you’ve never kissed a guy and then I offer to take that first kiss from you. I’m a fucking monster. I’m so sorry. Please forget it. That’s something really special and you should save it for the right time. The right person. I’m sorry, Patrick.”

Patrick’s brows bunched together as his mind raced. David wanted to kiss him. David Fucking Rose wanted to kiss him! He stopped because he cared about Patrick having a memorable first kiss? Oh, he was going to have a memorable first kiss and it was going to be with David.

Patrick leaned forward and placed his hands on each side of David’s face, pulling him close. He pressed his lips against David’s, tentatively. His perfectly groomed five o’clock shadow softly scratched against Patrick’s hands. The sensation rocketed through him.

David responded immediately, placing a hand behind Patrick’s head, winding his fingers in Patrick’s hair.

Patrick moaned.

David pulled back. “I’m sorry! Sorry!”

Patrick growled and pulled David back against his lips. His lips belonged on a federal watch list of addictive substances. His body hummed with the contact.

Was _that_ what he’d been missing his entire life? Holy _shit_. Patrick’s body had never responded so intensely to a kiss before. He felt it everywhere. The bottom of his feet. His knuckles. _Definitely_ his pants.

David’s tongue pressed into Patrick’s mouth and he moaned again, but this time David didn’t pull away. He tugged Patrick even closer.

Patrick climbed further up the couch, onto his knees, and he pressed David back against the arm of the couch. David’s other arm snaked around Patrick’s waist.

Holy shit.

Patrick had never been so turned on in his entire life. His pants grew tight. Or maybe that was David’s pants pressing against his own. Adding another dick to the mix created some fucking magnificent sensations. Patrick ground against David. He had lost control of his body. His body had decided he’d waited a few decades for a real first kiss and it was making the most of it.

David moaned, and the sound fueled Patrick like coal to a steam engine and he was ready to go.

The couch jerked, and a crack echoed through the room. Patrick fell off David onto the floor.

“The fuck?” Patrick’s breath came hard. He looked over and saw David tilted at an unnatural angle.

“We broke the couch.” David stared at Patrick. “Oh. My God. We broke the couch!”

They stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“Well, David Rose, that might go down as the best first kiss in history.”

David’s eyes heated and he bit his lower lip. “Poetry could be written about that kiss. Obviously, not by me. I dropped out of college before learning those skills.”

David threw and arm back over the arm of the couch and relaxed onto it. The moment seemed to affect him as much as it had Patrick. Patrick grinned. He loved knowing he had put that bewildered smile on David’s face.

His cock jerked and he looked down at his pants. “Yup, definitely gay.”

David groaned and pulled himself off the couch. “Patrick Brewer, that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me. You have no fucking idea.” He stood up and offered Patrick a hand.

Patrick grabbed it and let David pull him up. They stood inches from each other. “I want to do that again.”

“So do I.” David rested his forehead against Patrick’s. “But if we do, we’ll never make it down to dinner and I’m worried that little woman will come up here to check on us and see that we ruined her couch that is probably a Victorian original.” David grimaced. “If you get our bags, I’ll see if there’s a way I can prop this thing back up.”

That was probably a good idea because if the couch hadn’t broken, Patrick wasn’t sure his body would have let him stop. And he wasn’t sure he was ready for anything beyond his first kiss with a man yet.

Patrick Brewer had kissed David Rose.

David Rose had kissed Patrick Brewer.

In the immortal words of one of the hottest man alive, _Oh my God!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it this far and suffering through the slow burn. More good stuff to come! And eventual smut, never fear. Still lots of chapters left *evil grin*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has some light angst. Because of course our guys would get all up their head about things. Also, congratulations to the Schitt's Creek team for 15 (!!!!!!!) Emmy nominations!!!!!! I celebrated their awesomeness by watching some eps last night and reading some fic. How about you?

David watched the door close behind Patrick and he fell backward on the bed. What the fuck just happened. What the actual fuck just happened. Patrick kissed him.

Patrick. Brewer. Kissed. _Him._

That wasn’t a pity kiss or something he did because David had asked. No. The kind of kiss that said Patrick had been thinking about kissing David for a while and finally seized the opening.

Jesus.

And it was hands down the best kiss of his life. The hundreds—maybe thousands—of other people he’d kissed paled in comparison to what a couple minutes of having Patrick’s lips against his could do to him. If just a kiss had caused that much of a reaction, he couldn’t fathom what would happen if they went further.

Patrick Brewer was gay. David had never been happier to learn a fact before.

David ran a shaky hand over his lips. For a moment, his mind stilled. The usual din of anxious thoughts quieted, and he felt like he was in a float tank. A handful of Xanax had never calmed him like Patrick’s lips had.

He lay there and years of tension unfurled. A caring, wonderful, wholesome, kind man kissed him. A good man wanted to kiss him.

What had he done to deserve such good fortune? David smiled and closed his eyes, trying to relive the kiss.

David’s right leg twitched, and his stomach fluttered. No, not yet. The stillness slowly drained from him and he tried to clutch at it before his usual level of anxiety slammed back into him. Negative thoughts fluttered in his mind, chasing away the happy warmth.

Patrick was his business coach. Patrick didn’t have any experience with men and didn’t need David’s neuroses screwing him up from the outset. David didn’t even know how long Patrick planned to stay in Schitt’s Creek. What if Patrick freaked out when he learned more about David’s background? It was one thing to accept eccentricities of a friend, but it was something else entirely for a lover. Patrick deserved a guy who knew how to bake and build things and enjoyed sports and hikes and didn’t mind if his shoes got dirty and liked mornings.

David was neurotic at his worst moments and annoying at his best. He constantly second-guessed when people showed him kindness and didn’t believe for a second that love and happiness was in his future. Sex and being content enough? Sure. Patrick had been right on the drive. They were from different worlds, and it did matter.

No, he couldn’t go any further with Patrick. There were a million reasons not to, and it wasn’t worth getting off to risk hurting Patrick. What if they moved too fast and he resented David for it? He wouldn’t take all of Patrick’s firsts.

How would they be able to work together after that? David had been a good time, one time, to a lot of people over the years, but they never wanted to stick around. Patrick had to stick around until opening, and that was a recipe for disaster.

David pulled his phone from his pocked and opened his texts.

SOS. Stop reading or playing solitaire or whatever the hell you’re doing by yourself in that office. I need to talk to you.  
  


The three dots began bouncing immediately.

Erectile disfunction is a serious problem. I’m glad you’re reaching out for help.  
  


Why are we friends? You’re useless.  
  


You say that now. Did you see the present I left for you yet?  
  


I hardly think this is a time to be worrying about snacks.  
  


Oh, you sweet summer child.  
  


What does that even mean? I’m having a crisis here! Help me, you monster!  
  


You’re losing my attention. Get to the point.  
  


UGH. Stevie, I am calling in a friend favor on this one and if you breathe a word of what I’m about to say to ANYONE – especially my sister – I will feed you to pigs. I know farmers now.  
  


Okay, friend hat on. Snarky bitch hat off. What’s up?  
  


Patrick kissed me.  
  


Stevie replied with a series of GIFs depicting people’s minds being blown.

I mean, I hoped it would happen, but I wasn’t sure it would.  
  


Thanks?  
  


I wasn’t sure either of you would be bold enough to make a move.  
  


Is this a fucking game to you? I’ve got blue balls over here and I’m on the verge of an emotional melt-down! I need you to talk me off the ledge before Patrick gets back from the car.  
  


Unfortunately, I’ve seen your balls and they’re not blue. Hairy, not blue. *barf emoji*  
  


Again, why are we friends?  
  


Because I’m the only person in your life who will tell you to quit being a baby. I’m not exactly sure why you’re texting me right now instead of getting Patrick naked.  
  


I don’t think it’s a good idea to go any further.  
  


He didn’t want to betray Patrick’s trust by sharing with her what Patrick had shared with him. It wasn’t his place to share that Patrick was newly gay. Hell, he probably shouldn’t even told her that Patrick had kissed him and outed him that way. Shit! He was no good at that stuff!

I guess this answers the gay question then. Or at least bi or pan or whatever he uses. And, no, I won’t tell anyone. I know it’s Patrick’s identity to share, not ours.  
  


David blew out a breath. She knew him so well.

How was it?  
  


David sent six GIFs of various fires. Words couldn’t convey.

Again, I ask, why are you texting me and not getting him naked?  
  


It’s not that easy. He’s my business coach.  
  


It’s as easy as you want to make it.  
  


David stared down at his phone. It couldn’t be that easy. David wasn’t a guy people stuck around for and giving into his now all-consuming desire for Patrick would add a definite expiration date to his relationship with Patrick and one that would probably be earlier than whenever it would end.

His business mattered so much to him. The old David would just bang someone on a whim, but not this David. He had to be smarter. Think more long-term.

A part of him wondered if Patrick would enjoy something casual with David so Patrick could safely explore some things and learn about himself. David could be a gentle teacher and offer a hefty dose of judgment-free bedroom time. It wouldn’t exactly be a hardship after that kiss.

What the fuck was he thinking? Or trying to convince himself of? Whether Patrick was game, David knew he held the power in the situation. He knew Patrick would resent David if he went too far, too fast. He knew just what Patrick was going through. Growing up thinking he was gay was one thing, but when David had slept with his first female partner and loved it, the resulting identity crisis rocked him. He hadn’t even known a label for how he felt. Everyone he had been with during that experimentation time were people he never wanted to think about again, let alone talk to and stay in touch.

What if Patrick never wanted to think about David again? What if David became a faceless guy who helped him figure out his sexuality during a pit stop in Schitt’s Creek? Bile threatened to climb up his throat.

You okay?  
  


No. But I’ll get through. I have to get ready for a retreat thing.  
  


Skip the dinner and get Patrick naked. *eggplant emoji*  
  


*eyeroll emoji* *middle finger emoji*  
  


Thanks for texting with me.  
  


You’re going to be okay. Just don’t shut him out.  
  


*thumbs up emoji*  
  


#

“Then the wind caught me, and I went tumbling down a part of Ben Nevis. I thought I’d never see another dram in my life.” Hamish lifted a glass of whisky and took a drink.

The dozen or so people around the table laughed. Patrick was a beat behind them. His mind worked overtime trying to keep up with Hamish’s stories while sneaking glances at David to his left.

They’d kissed.

He’d kissed a man.

And fucking _loved_ it.

If David hadn’t spent half the drive to the retreat talking about how getting a deal with Hamish could help secure the business’s success, he would have begged David to skip dinner and find sturdier furniture to make out on. But David wanted this so badly, so that meant Patrick did too.

He shifted on his feet and took a drink of his beer. David had acted kind of weird when Patrick had gotten back up to the room with their bags. He’d spent the jaunt to his car thinking about kissing him again, but when he found David watching a YouTube tutorial and fretting over the couch, he’d gone into helping mode and the moment passed. He hadn’t missed how David’s eye contact had been less and the heat they’d built in the room had left.

Patrick tried not to worry about it too much because he knew how much David could get in his own head. They could talk about it later, and he would make sure David knew he had zero regrets about their kiss.

The prospect of their sharing a bed had gotten a lot more interesting.

“David, you look familiar. Have we met before?” Hamish took a couple of steps toward his and David’s side of the large circle.

Patrick sensed David tense up. He couldn’t imagine the burden of walking through life with the world knowing your fall from grace.

“I don’t believe so.” David picked up his red wine and took a drink.

He stopped himself from giving David’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. They may have ground their crotches against each other an hour ago, but Patrick didn’t feel like he’d earned that level of intimacy with him yet.

“I’m sure we’ve met before. Aye.” Hamish lifted the hand holding his whisky and pointed at David. “Have you spent time in Edinburgh before? The festival?”

The circle of attendees shifted into a few small groups, and other conversations broke out. Patrick awkwardly stood as the third wheel with Hamish and David.

“Mm. Yes, several times. My last one was three years ago.” David took a drink of his red wine.

Patrick’s mind wandered back to their date. He should invite David to go back there next weekend so they could finish it properly and enjoy more wine.

Hamish lifted his hand and snapped his fingers together. “That’s it. Barbie’s clown party.”

David’s shoulders dropped. “Yes!” He leaned forward. “Did we meet?” His eyes widened, and he smiled. At Hamish.

Patrick took a longer swig of his beer.

“No, but I remember seeing you there.”

David’s fingers stopped tapping against the wineglass. “Oh.”

Patrick knew that “oh.” He’d gotten that “oh” reaction before when he’d flattered David, and he really didn’t love hearing it being given to someone else. That was his “oh.”

He could never compete with David’s history. The parties, the travel, the friends. Patrick was a boring guy from rural Canada who was having an identity crisis in his thirties.

Patrick studied Hamish and wondered if he had something Patrick could never compete with. He was good-looking and wore his blonde-ginger beard and mustache well. His smile was easy and his blue eyes had a piercing quality. Patrick didn’t like it at all.

“It’s dinner time. If you’ll follow me in here and grab your seats.” The woman who’d checked them in earlier gestured toward a room attached to the library they had mingled in the past half an hour.

Hamish peppered David with questions as they talked into the dining room. Patrick followed behind them, lamenting his third wheel status. If he could get a seat next to David, then he could play footsie or remind David of their kiss by putting his hand on David’s thigh. Inching higher and higher through dinner until David dragged him upstairs.

“Barbie’s parties haven’t been as good since that one. Do you have any plans to visit the festival this year?”

Patrick used to think Scottish accents were kind of hot.

The other retreat attendees filtered into the room and grabbed chairs.

“David, sit by me? Let’s catch up.” Hamish gestured to a chair to the right of the head of table seat. One empty chair since a woman had already claimed the left of head of table, and the seat on the other side of where Hamish wanted David to sit.

Catch up. Pfft. They didn’t even know each other.

David looked over at Patrick and he could see the panic in David’s eyes.

Patrick nodded and offered a half smile. They were there for David to land a business deal, not to get frisky. If David used even half the charm Patrick had experienced, then Hamish would be eating out his palm by the end of the night.

Turning on his heel, Patrick stormed to the far end of the table so he wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop and get all worked up during dinner.

That had been a mistake. Instead of giving his full attention to the older couple he sat near, he kept glancing down at Hamish and David to inspect and catalog David’s facial expressions. Rating each one on the David Rose Scale of Sincerity.

Hamish had David _laughing_. David wasn’t normally a laugher. Chuckles? Yeah. Fake laughter? Always. Genuine laughter was a rare treat. One Patrick had experienced with increasing frequency over the past couple of weeks.

Patrick picked up his third beer. He needed to go for a walk and clear his head. There were too many thoughts and emotions jumbling him up. Grateful and still reeling from their kiss. Wanting more. Wanting to add some distance so he didn’t get hurt. Wanting to help David secure the deal with Hamish. Wanting to drown Hamish in his _dram_ to get him to stop flirting with David with his sexy accent and kilts and bendy body.

The politeness Patrick’s mom had drilled into him since he was a young man won out, otherwise he would have left halfway through dinner.

As soon as the dessert plates were cleared, Patrick tried to plan his escape. He wouldn’t stick around to get tipsier and more frustrated. The couple who had talked to him through dinner scooted back their chairs. Patrick did the same, seizing his escape opportunity.

Patrick saw David watch him rise from the table. Patrick made a typing motion and mouth, “work to do.” David frowned, but nodded.

He bypassed the stairs and went out to explore the grounds in the twilight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The yoga starts in tomorrow's chapter! Thanks for all the lovely comments so far. Y'all are great! <3 I'm also about 25k into a new David & Patrick fic that I'll start posting after this one's done.


	10. Chapter 10

Patrick rolled over and punched the pillow into a ball. He had slept on more comfortable floors before. Well, slept may be the wrong word. Tried-to-sleep-but-his-mind-wouldn’t-give-him-a-break “rest.”

He turned on his phone screen. Nearly eleven. David had been hanging out with Hamish for a few hours. He didn’t want to think about what they were doing.

He couldn’t blame David. He’d seen Hamish’s ass enough from his mom’s Facebook shares to get the appeal. Their kiss didn’t mean he had any claim on David. Patrick wouldn’t expect that from anyone without having a straightforward conversation first.

Ugh. Jealousy sucked. Patrick flipped over again, tugging the blanket further up his arms, which left his toes bare.

With Rachel, he knew when to act jealous and when she wanted him to say he was jealous, but he’d never _felt_ it. The twisting of his gut, scrambling of his mind, pure illogical thought that threatened to consume everything.

Seeing David getting chummy with Hamish had produced all of those feelings and Patrick hated it. He hated that instinctual response. It felt so primitive and toxic.

He wished his therapist was on duty so they could text. He’d even settle for a friend like Stevie.

Some of the blogs warned that coming out later in life could lead to a social regression of sorts. Promiscuous behavior, jealousy, falling for people too fast. Re-living things that happened to many others in their teen years as part of a sort of queer puberty.

Maybe that’s all it was with David. His emotions had gotten a bit tangled up after kissing him and he was just feeling the aftermath.

Then why did he kiss David in the first place? Why had he thought about kissing David every day since they had met?

The door handle twisted, and the door slowly swung open on a series of squeaks. “Shit. Shh.”

Patrick squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep like he had many times in college when Rachel had wanted to get frisky after class. Now he just wanted to avoid an awkward scene.

“Oh.”

Patrick squinted one eye open to see why David sounded so disappointed. The bathroom light he’d left on for David cast a soft glow on the side of his handsome face. He stared at the couch. Was that a smile?

He saw David bend over and remove his sneakers. They were probably worth more than Patrick’s hand-me-down car. He walked over and slid them under the couch.

“Oh my God!” David jumped back when he saw Patrick. “Oh, my God.” He then said on a whisper.

Patrick held back a laugh. As if the first shriek wouldn’t have woken him up from a dead sleep.

“Hello, David.” Patrick pretended to just be waking up.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you hiding on the other side of the bed. Why are you skulking on the floor in the corner like some sort of troll?”

He punched the pillow again. “I wanted you to take the bed. I’m fine down here.”

“Get your ass in the bed, Patrick. You are _not_ sleeping on the floor on my watch. It’s a queen-size for crying out loud.” He huffed. “But that’s considerate, thank you.”

Patrick watched him walk over to grab one of his suitcases.

“I’m going to do my skincare routine and you’d better have your ass in that bed before I’m out of the bathroom or I’m joining you on the floor. You don’t want to wake up with a sore back during a yoga retreat. Trust me.” David closed the bathroom door, leaving the room in complete darkness.

Patrick lay there for a moment, debating what to do. He liked a bossy David. He just wished he were bossing him around for other reasons.

“I mean it, Brewer. I don’t hear you moving.” David’s voice was muffled through the bathroom door.

Brewer? Patrick swallowed a laugh.

He turned on his phone’s flashlight app. He could just sleep on top of the blankets to make sure and keep some distance between them. He carefully untucked the sheets and comforter on his side of the bed to give David more of the blanket. He settled on the side of the bed furthest from the bathroom, with his back to where David would lay. The thin couch throw would be enough.

He was half asleep by the time the bathroom door opened. One hell of a skincare routine.

David padded over to the bed and pulled the blankets back. Patrick felt the bed dip as David climbed in. The scent of lavender tickled his nose and relaxed him. A soft scent of whisky followed behind and Patrick’s neck tensed.

“Why aren’t you under the blankets? Does your body produce an inhuman amount of heat or something? Are you a lizard?”

Patrick’s body betrayed him with a full body shiver.

David sighed. “You’re acting like this is your first co-ed slumber party and I have cooties. Get under the covers so you don’t freeze to death. I don’t want to spend this yoga retreat dealing with a coroner.” David turned on his side, facing away from Patrick, pulling the blankets over him and tossing some back to David.

“How’d it go with Hamish?” Patrick squeezed his eyes shut. His stupid, stupid mouth.

“Fine.”

“Good.” Patrick pulled the covers over his body and relaxed into the warmth.

“Patrick?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh.”

#

“What the fuck is that godforsaken noise?” David threw his arm over his face to block out the light coming through the lace curtains. “Alexis, make it stop.”

“Mmm? Whatsit?”

That did _not_ sound like Alexis.

David cracked open an eyelid. Patrick. Sweet, Patrick. That was a pleasant sight to wake up to. He wanted to close the distance and kiss Patrick fully awake. He bet Patrick was the kind of guy who liked a slow morning make-out.

Patrick frowned, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “So loud.”

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The wrinkles in Patrick’s forehead deepened. “What is that?”

David squeezed his lips between his teeth at Patrick’s annoyed expression. “I think it’s your alarm.”

“Why. It’s Saturday.”

“We’ve gotta get ready for yoga class.”

Patrick groaned.

So much for Patrick being a morning person. “Patrick, where’s your phone?”

“Nightstand.” He yanked the blanket higher up his body. “Siri, shh.”

David laughed. “I got it.” He rolled onto his stomach and reached over Patrick to get to his phone. “Sorry, just trying to get your phone.” His chest pressed against Patrick’s side. He tapped the “stop” button on the screen. “Finally, peace.”

Patrick rolled onto his back, forcing David to sprawl across his chest.

“Good morning.” Patrick offered a shy smile.

David stilled. “Morning.” He smiled back.

They stared at each other for a long moment. David felt a sharp ache deep in his gut. He just needed to lower his head a few inches and he would have Patrick’s lips again. Lips that had haunted his dreams.

Patrick reached up and ran his fingers through David’s morning hair. Hair that _very_ few people had the pleasure (misfortune?) of seeing.

A rooster’s call assaulted David’s eardrums. “What the fuck is that?” It was loud and invasive.

_Cock-a-doodle-do cock-a-doodle-do_

“Is that a recording of a rooster?”

_Cock-a-doodle-do cock-a-doodle-do_

“Rise and shine! Time to wake up and get ready for yer first class of the day.” Hamish called from the hallway outside their room.

“That’s fucking despicable,” Patrick muttered.

“This had better be a damn good class.” David rolled away. The moment killed by a recording of a cock. Not the kind of cock he had on his mind a moment ago.

An hour later, David unrolled a yoga mat in the front of the class. He noticed Patrick watching him and mirroring his movements.

He normally wasn’t big on the whole gray sweatpants thing, but Patrick had silently argued their value in a way David hadn’t considered before.

“Good morning. I’m glad you all could join me this morning.” Hamish looked around the room, his eyes landing on David. He felt his cheeks grow warm. He was a bit disappointed to see Hamish wearing black leggings instead of the kilt, but it was probably for the best. Keep the distractions to a minimum.

“We’ll start with some simple sun salutations to warm up and build some fire, then we’ll go through a couple of my favorite flows. I want to get a sense of where everyone is at in their yoga journey.”

“Good thing I practiced these,” Patrick said as he tucked the front of his shirt in his sweats.

“Mm.” David’s tongue darted out to lick his lower lip. Fire already building in him as he thought about what it felt like to lay on top of Patrick in the bed. Who needed sun salutations? He was already warmed up. Shit. No, no, no. Farting in yoga was fine, but boners weren’t widely accepted. Leopard print polyester blouses. Sequin and satin vests. Pleather. Whewww. Okay. David continued to focus on the horrific clothes Wendy had in the Blouse Barn before he’d fixed it.

Patrick caught him looking and raised an eyebrow. That cheeky grin. Ugh. Busted. David couldn’t contain the tug of the left side of his mouth into a smile of his own. He haphazardly tucked the front of his Oprah T-shirt into his joggers.

“Let’s do three sun salutation A and two sun salutation B to build some good fire. I’ll shout out the steps for ye, but feel free to go at your own pace.”

David shook out his arms and did some quick squats.

“Reach toward the sky. That’s it, reach high. Now bend over and hang at your waist. Elongate your back and reach forward. Now plank. That’s it. Aye.”

David planted his hands down and smoothly stepped back into the plank position, transitioning into chaturanga. “The half chaturanga works great too,” David whispered to Patrick when he noticed him struggling to hold the pose. “Half means to drop your knees and hold your upper body up.”

Patrick looked around as though he was checking to see if anyone else was doing the modification. If he was already starting with a macho attitude, it would be a long retreat.

Patrick let his knees touch.

“Cobra. Aye, great job, everyone. Shift yer hips up into downward dog.”

David easily shifted his weight. Patrick had to re-place his feet a few times on his way to downward dog.

“Hold it. That’s good.” Hamish stood and started walking around the room. “Dip each knee, one at a time to stretch your hips. If you’re feeling comfortable, kick each leg back and up to open your hips even more.”

David kicked his left leg back and up, opening his hip wide.

Hamish walked over to Patrick and placed his hands on each side of Patrick’s hips. “Shift your weight back a bit so your hips go even higher. Aye, that’s it.”

David’s stare locked on its target like a heat-seeking missile. Hamish’s hands lingered on Patrick’s hips longer than David thought was necessary. He wasn’t a yoga teacher, but come on. David’s weight went off-balance, and he began to fall over but caught himself before he face-planted.

He needed to keep his eyes on his own mat and not on Patrick’s hips and who was touching them.

“Hop or step forward to bring your feet to your hands. Well done.” Hamish continued wandering the room.

“Elongate your spine, now hang loose with your hands at your feet. Slowly roll up, with your head stacking last. That’s one done. Let’s keep going.”

David focused on his form through the rest of the sun salutations, breathing hard by the last one. The fire definitely had been stoked. Patrick had held his own pretty well. Either he was a natural, or he really had been practicing all week. He had moved somewhat slower and clumsier than most others in the class, but he didn’t seem like the newest to yoga.

As Hamish took them through a flow, David tried to figure out how he could bring up the store with him. He had several opportunities last night, but he didn’t take them. He could blame it on wanting to build a relationship with Hamish and get to know him before trying to get business out of him. But that would be a lie.

The kiss with Patrick had scrambled his brain. _That_ kiss. It was a miracle he had been able to string words together in cohesive sentences and had the brain-to-hand connection to feed himself at dinner. Not sitting by Patrick had thrown him off. He wanted Patrick’s reassuring presence there as he talked about the business and tried to sell Hamish on its value. He needed Patrick. Instead, they had talked about Edinburgh, the festival, acquaintances they had in common. It had been too deep a dive in his old life to be comfortable. Spending the evening hanging out with Patrick would have been much better, but he didn’t want to interrupt him during the work he said he had to do. So, David had stayed through another drink with Hamish until the man went off to bed and David had curled into a chair in the library and flipped through some books about Victorian fashion for a couple of hours.

“Great class, everyone. You now have a two-hour break. I encourage you to wander the grounds and find one of our various reflection and meditation benches.”

“Thanks, Hamish. That was great.” David bent at his hips, from side to side. He felt limber and loose. Hamish was a fantastic instructor.

“You’re very graceful, David. Have you been practicing a while?”

David felt his cheeks heat as he bit his lips together, nodding. “I’ve been practicing for a few years. I watch your videos pretty regularly. You’re really good at this. Don’t you think, Patrick?”

David looked over and found Patrick bent over, his back to them, rolling up his mat. He’d seen Patrick in khakis, jeans, and now, sweats. These were his favorite. His ass looked out of this world.

David cleared his throat and looked back at Hamish, who gave David a wink. Busted again.

Patrick turned around. “Definitely. I really enjoyed that.”

Endorphins looked good on Patrick. _Very_ good. His forehead had a shine to it and pink tinged his cheeks. Would he look that lively after other forms of exercise?

Skorts! One-shoulder rayon tops. Polka dots.

“See you lads in two hours.”

He had a lot of ideas of how he could use those two hours.

“Want to go for a walk and check this place out?” Patrick took a swig from his water bottle.

“Yeah.” David grinned. “That sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More yoga tomorrow! *eyebrow waggle*
> 
> Chapter 10 in the books! We're haaaaalfway theeeeerreee ohhhhhh! Livin on a praaaayer. You're welcome for the ear worm ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Patrick's stomach heaved like an army of butterflies had just burst from their cocoons. He and David walked in silence for several minutes down a path leading away from the building.

They passed by several benches and water features that hid in alcoves between groups of dense trees and shrubs. Birds chirped happily around them. Oblivious to the turmoil in Patrick’s mind and body.

“It’s beautiful here.” David stopped in front of a ceramic pedestal where a small, brown and black bird bathed itself in the bowl of water on top.

“It definitely is.”

He felt David’s eyes on him. Soft and comforting like a cashmere sweater. “How was the class? You did a great job.”

Patrick let out a half laugh. “I can see why they call it ‘practicing’ because that’s exactly what it feels like. I enjoyed it, though.” He released a shaky breath. “I am concerned at how much more intense it will get since that was just the first class.” He had almost fallen over at least a dozen times on the poses that required more balance. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up with a broken nose.

David walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. Patrick followed.

“That’s what I love about yoga. You can do the poses you want, push yourself when you want, or pull back when you’re not feeling it. There’s no competition or judgment. It’s all about challenging yourself in a way that feels comfortable to you.” David looked out toward a group of towering trees. “Yoga is the one thing that quiets my mind.”

Patrick liked this thoughtful side of David. The man kept surprising him. “I can see the appeal.”

David looked at him and smiled. The rays of sunlight that broke through the tree cover lit up David’s golden skin and added a shine to his black hair.

“Yoga is what helped me survive the first year in Schitt’s Creek. My anxiety was out of control. I was constantly on edge, snapping at people, and felt like I was one wrong word away from biting everyone’s head off. But I stuck with yoga and practiced mostly when Alexis was out on her runs. It felt like my private thing, you know? Alexis now knows I do it and does some of Hamish’s videos with me, but I haven’t really told anyone else how important it is to me.” David looked back toward the trees. “It’s silly, I know. It’s just exercise.”

“Nothing about you is silly, David.”

David turned to face Patrick. The left side of his mouth lightly pulled back into an easy smile. “I highly doubt that’s true. You’ve poked fun a time or two about how low the crotch of my pants hangs.”

Patrick laughed. “Unusual, sure. But you’re not silly.”

They stared at each other for several long moments. Patrick felt open and bare. Exposed. Like David was the first person who _really_ saw him for who he was and who he could be. He wanted to close his eyes and run or crack a joke to break the smothering tension, but he also wanted to get lost in the depth of David’s eyes. He was lost. He was drowning and David held the only rescue float.

“Can I ask you a question?” David’s voice was husky.

“You can ask me anything.” Patrick’s voice sounded like it had dropped an octave or two.

David licked his lips. “Do you have any regrets about yesterday? Your first kiss? First kiss with a man?”

Patrick had never seen David look so vulnerable before. He carefully weighed his words to make sure there was no way David could misinterpret them or twist them into something to feel bad about himself. Nearly the only habit of David’s he didn’t like. Actually, the only habits of David’s that Patrick didn’t like were the ones where David put himself down.

“David, the only regret I have is that I didn’t kiss _you_ sooner.” He didn’t break eye contact and hoped his emphasis on “you” made it clear that David was not a stand-in for any man.

“Oh.” David blinked a few times. Patrick could see his mind working, trying to find something in Patrick’s statement that wasn’t there. “Wow.”

“That’s really the only word I can think to sum up that kiss, too. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Patrick grinned. He was openly flirting with David Rose. Not tangentially flirty or testing the waters a bit while they were teasing each other in the shop. Dropping a flirty line then skirting away from it to safer topics Nope. Intentional and explicit flirting as though it were the easiest thing in the world. Easy like breathing.

He had understood the concept of flirting, but it had always been something he had to talk himself into doing when his partners had expected it. This felt natural. Instinctual.

“I don’t know what to say.” David’s statement eyebrows squeezed together. “That doesn’t happen very often.”

Patrick looked ahead, giving David a moment to collect himself. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m not going anywhere.” Not at that moment, anyway. He was there to see the launch of Rose Apothecary through. He’d worry about what came next later.

David reached out and grabbed Patrick’s hand. Patrick intertwined his fingers between David’s.

#

Hamish unrolled his yoga mat at the front of the ballroom-turned-yoga studio. “I’d like to do some partner work during this class. Practicing yoga with someone else can be a very restorative and illuminating experience.”

David didn’t miss the look Hamish shot him, but he wasn’t sure how to interpret it. The flirting Hamish had started with at dinner yesterday had stopped after a while. David had been friendly and charming, but he’d stayed just shy of flirting. How could he flirt with Hamish when his mind kept replaying Patrick’s lips on his?

“It also opens up an entire suite of new poses ye can try. Ones you can’t do alone. I’ll need a partner to demonstrate these. David? Would you be comfortable working with me?”

David instinctively glanced at Patrick, but Patrick was looking down at his mat.

He hadn’t flirted with Hamish, right?! By the end of dinner, they chatted like old friends. Definitely not like two people warming each other up for some fooling around. At least from David’s perspective. Maybe that camaraderie was why Hamish called him out for partner yoga? His mind went back over his interactions with Hamish to try to find a point where he was flirting and sent Hamish the wrong message. All he could remember was politely smiling and keeping Hamish engaged while shooting looks down the table to Patrick and seeing him politely listening to a couple.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Oh my God.

“We’ll do a range of beginner to advanced positions,” Hamish said to the class. He then looked at David. “From what I can tell, you’ve got impressive core strength, but I don’t want you doing anything that’s not comfortable. So, we go at your pace, okay?”

David blushed. He’d had a dream last night of saying the same thing to Patrick. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sounds great.”

“Let’s start with a back stretch. This one’s nice and easy. David, let’s stand back-to-back and hold out your arms.”

David did as he was instructed. Hamish wrapped his arms through David’s and their bodies stood flush against each other.

“Now I will bend forward and you’ll lift and stretch over my back. Ready?”

“Mmhmm.” David slowly lifted off the ground. Hamish’s strength and control was amazing. His body popped in several spots as he stretched over Hamish’s back.

After David lifted Hamish onto his back, Hamish had them on their knees on the mat, facing each other. He looked over at Patrick and found Patrick’s stare fixed on his hips. He quickly looked away before anything near his hips reacted.

“This is the couple’s camel pose. If you have any knee issues and are not comfortable resting on your knees, consider giving this one a pass. How are your knees, David?”

Considering the amount of time he’d spent on them before, he’d say they were okay. “Um, they’re fine.”

“Grab your partner’s forearms and lean back. Try to relax your head and neck.”

David held onto Hamish’s forearms and leaned back. He felt Hamish’s thighs and groin press against his own. Jesus. If he popped a boner in front of the class, he’d run screaming out of there and never look back. He waited for his body to take a traitorous position, but nothing happened. Thank God.

He’d watched hours and hours of Hamish’s yoga videos and seen the man’s handstand-produced ass enough to draw it from memory. How in the hell was his body not reacting to the contact? It was fucking _Hamish McDonald_.

Nothing.

David risked a glance at Patrick as Hamish instructed David to release the pose and stand up.

Patrick sat on the ground, his legs bent in front of him, feet down, and arms resting on his knees. His pose was casual, open even, but his eyes were dark. Focused. Challenging.

If Patrick’s looks could kill, Hamish would be vapor. David bit his lips to prevent the smug smile. Maybe he would have a little fun with it. After all, Patrick teased David so often that he was pretty far behind in the race.

“Now let’s go for a forward fold. Let’s stand with our backs facing each other. Bend forward and reach between your legs to grab my wrists.”

“Sure thing.” David bent forward and reached back. He and Hamish grabbed each other’s wrists. “That’s a nice stretch.”

“If you want to deepen the stretch, press your body against your partner’s.” Hamish inched back until his ass was flush against David’s.

“I’m sure a lot of your kilted yoga fans would be jealous of me right now,” David said, looking up at their audience and winking. Almost everyone in the room laughed. One person did not. Honestly, it was a pretty great stretch though.

“Let’s try something harder.”

David rubbed his hands together. “Okay.” He could feel Patrick’s stare on him, but he didn’t dare look at Patrick or he’d start laughing.

“Can you do a handstand, David?”

“Not fully, but I can hold myself up if I have my feet against the wall.”

Hamish smiled wide; his full ginger beard shifted. “That’s perfect. I’ll get into downward dog. Then I want you to stand in front of me, with your back to me. Plant your hands a foot or so in front of mine and walk your feet up my back. Try to get your body into an upside-down L. Got it?”

David’s bravado abandoned him like all his friends had after his dad’s business partner had taken all of their money. “I think so.” David stepped back so Hamish could get into downward dog.

“Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me. I’ve had lots of kicks in the back doing this.”

“Okay.” David planted his hands and used his core strength and arms to kick his legs up like he’d done dozens of time against the wall. His feet landed hard on Hamish’s back, but Hamish didn’t even flinch.

“Yer doing great, David.”

David focused on his steady breath as he shifted his weight and moved his hands back to achieve the L-shape.

“Bravo!” Someone in the class said.

David’s arms started shaking. He was trying to keep too much of his weight forward and off of Hamish. Bad move.

As if sensing David was off-balance, Hamish started speaking. “That’s great. I’ll lower so you can shift your legs to the side more easily.” Hamish easily lowered not just his own weight, but part of David’s too. Once Hamish was closer to the ground, David shifted his left leg off of Hamish and planted it to the ground, kicking his right leg up until Hamish got out of the way.

“Game for one more?”

“Mmhmm.” David wasn’t sure he was, but now he was too far into it to stop now.

“Ever tried an airplane pose before?” Hamish’s eyes shifted toward Patrick then he raised an eyebrow once his gaze had settled back on David. Uh oh.

David shook his head but he had an idea of where they were going.

“This one requires a lot of balance and trust. It often takes many tries to get right.” Hamish dropped to the ground. “I’ll lay on my back and extend my legs toward you. I’m going to place my feet at your hips. Then you’ll grab my hands and I’ll pull my legs back toward me like I’m doing a crunch, which will lift you into the air. You may fall. Like with all poses, falling is okay. As long as you’re comfortable.”

Hamish’s expression was warm and inviting. David doubted his own ability, but he didn’t doubt Hamish’s.

David grabbed Hamish’s hands as soon as Hamish’s feet had settled on David’s pelvis. The moment his feet lifted off the floor, he wobbled. Hamish’s legs and arms were as sturdy as logs, but David felt off center.

“Shit.” David’s weight shifted to the left, and he fell to the side, landing on his shoulder. He stood immediately and shook off the flush heating his cheeks. He hated falling. Especially in front of an audience.

Hamish sat up. “All right?”

David nodded. “Yup.”

Hamish lifted his body to a standing position without using his hands. “Now it’s your turn. David, care to partner with Patrick?”

Hamish turned to face David and gave him a little wink.

The cheeky Scot!

“Sure, yeah. Happy to.” David bit his lips together and tried to suppress his grin. Hamish McDonald: internationally recognized yoga instructor, entrepreneur, and matchmaker.

“Everyone else, please partner up if you’d like to participate. I’ll wander around and talk you all through the poses.

David stood up and walked toward Patrick. Patrick’s normally hazel eyes were nearly as dark as David’s hair and David’s voice went hoarse. “Game for some partner yoga?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow: partner yoga *evil grin*


	12. Chapter 12

Patrick's arms intertwined with David’s, with their backs pressed together. Patrick couldn’t help but notice how much more they’d been touching the past week. A couple of hugs, patting of hands, squeezing of shoulders, pressing of lips, holding of hands. Now partner yoga. He enjoyed touching David.

A lot.

When he’d been with women, he liked being larger than them. But with David? Feeling David’s hips sit higher than his own as their backs touched, his own shoulders hitting below David’s. He liked that a lot too. At that point, it would be more efficient to list things he didn’t like about David.

“I’ll lift you first,” David said.

“Okay.” Patrick concentrated on squeezing his core and holding his arms steady around David’s. He was concentrating on that so much and trying not to think about what it would feel like if it weren’t their backs pressed together, but their fronts. He didn’t really feel any a stretch. If anything, he felt more tense.

David lowered him. “Want to lift me?”

“Yes.” Patrick focused on the strength in his legs, keeping steady, rooting them into the ground, as he lifted David back.

“Mm that’s a good stretch.”

Patrick smiled and relaxed a little, allowing himself to enjoy the pose a bit. David was heavy, but in a way that felt safe and comforting. He enjoyed having David on him, but he’d much prefer it happening outside of a class.

“You know, if you think your mom would like it, I’d be happy to describe in detail for her what it was like to be pressed up against Hamish’s famous ass.”

Patrick’s knees wobbled and he stood. David’s feet hit the floor with a thud. Abso-fucking-lutely-not. He didn’t want to know anything about Hamish’s ass other than when it was getting the hell out of Canada.

 _Patrick, chill out._ Yoga should be restorative, not aggravating. Now understood Hamish’s earlier pep talk about possibly experiencing anger and frustration with certain poses and rolling with it. Though, he doubted Hamish intended to be the target of those feelings.

“I’ll take that as a no.” David laughed.

“Next, let’s do the camel pose.” Hamish walked by Patrick and David as he wandered the room.

David arched one of his perfect eyebrows and flashed a flirty smirk. Not the one where is shifted to the side like he was hiding it, but that smirk was open and direct. He dropped to his knees in front of Patrick.

Jesus Christ. David knew exactly what he was doing. Patrick knew he wanted to see David do that again. And again.

He let out a breath and dropped to his own knees.

“Hello, welcome. The floor is lovely.” David’s dimples were very pronounced as he spoke easily, as though they were discussing the weather.

“You will be the death of me, David Rose.”

“I’ll say lovely things at your funeral. I promise,” David countered with a challenge in his eyes.

Patrick groaned.

“Grasp each other’s forearms. Patrick, scoot closer to David. There’s practically a canyon between you two.” Hamish bent down and looked between them.

Patrick inched forward on his knees until he felt his thighs hit David’s. Then their groins touched, and it felt like two magnets pulling them together. He wasn’t sure how he would disentangle himself from David after they were done, nor how he would avoid spontaneously combusting if David dared to move a millimeter.

David and Patrick stared into each other’s eyes. His chest swelled when he noticed David breathing heavily. The knowledge that their contact wasn’t just affecting him sent a jolt of desire so strong it almost knocked the wind from him.

“That’s it, now grasp each other’s forearms and lean back.”

Patrick wrapped his fingers around David’s forearms and held on. As he leaned back, the tension in their grip tightened and their bodies pressed against each other. His mind catalogued the sensations. Muscles in his legs, pelvis, arms, abs stretching, but that was secondary to the focus on telling his cock to not even think about moving. But something did. Either his or David’s or both. Fuck. _Fuuuck._

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Patrick willed himself to chill out as he focused on other sensations in his body, like the pressure on his knees and relaxing his shoulders. David’s fingers wrapped like a vice around his forearms. A grip that could be applied to—

“Well done, all. Go ahead and try the next one. Stand with your backs facing each other. Bend at the waist and reach through your legs to stretching your lower back and hips.”

Patrick straightened and his gaze landed right on David’s dimples.

“Wow,” David mouthed.

Patrick bit his lower lip and stood. Turning around and standing in front of David, he bent over, giving him a taste of his own medicine. As soon as he heard David suck in a breath, he knew it had worked. He reached his hands between his legs and wiggled his fingers as he waited for David to grab them. He felt David’s ass press against his own before he felt David’s hands wrap around his wrists. Metal from David’s signature four rings singed his skin.

The tall swoop of David’s hair dipped as he hung his head upside down. Patrick fought the feeling of blood rushing to his face and tried to focus on keeping his balance. It was difficult since he was looking at David instead of the ground.

“Your ass is nicer than his,” David said as he released his grip on Patrick, winked, then stood.

Definitely not going to survive the class.

“Ye’re doing great, everyone. For those comfortable trying, let’s move onto the airplane pose.”

Patrick tried to collect himself as he stood and turned to face David. Game on. “How about you take top and I’ll take bottom?”

David stuck his tongue against his upper lip. “Mm. I like that idea.”

Patrick’s heart rate skyrocketed like he had just finished a marathon. He would never forget the heat in David’s eyes at that moment. No matter what happened down the road, that is how he would remember David. Turned on and lusting. For Patrick.

Patrick slowly lowered himself in front of David as another bit of payback, then dropped onto his butt. He laid on his back and stuck his feet and hands out to David.

David grabbed Patrick’s feet and pressed them against his groin, slowly grazing one foot over his semi— _fuckkkk_ —then slowly shifted them to the edges of his hips. His fingers rubbed against Patrick’s ankles.

Who the hell knew ankles could be an erogenous zone?

“Ready?” David asked as he intertwined his fingers with Patrick’s.

“Ready.” Patrick focused on using the strength in his core and thighs to lift David. He kept his legs as stiff as possible to keep him balanced.

They squeezed each other’s hands tightly as David balanced on Patrick’s legs.

“Wow, you’re doing great!” A woman called out as others clapped.

Patrick and David didn’t break eye contact. Patrick focused on David. His body, where his weight shifted, holding him steady. Any time David shifted, Patrick adjusted, and they worked together to keep each other upright.

The perfect team.

#

David rolled up his yoga mat and put it back in the basket that held his shoes and cell phone. With hours to kill before the next class and an instruction from Hamish to “take some meditative time,” David wasn’t sure what to do.

If he ended up back in the room with Patrick, he knew what he wanted to do, but that was the opposite of meditative. Cathartic, but not meditative. He didn’t have the patience for tantric sex. Maybe he and Patrick could go on another walk.

But then they’d probably just end up making out on one of the benches and scandalizing the other retreat guests.

“Thanks for being my demonstration partner, David.” Hamish clapped David on the shoulder.

David smiled. “My pleasure. I’m really enjoying the retreat.” He slid his phone in his pocket, trying to think of a way to talk to Hamish about Rose Apothecary.

Patrick walked up and collected his shoes. “Me too.” Patrick didn’t look at David, but David could see the grin on his face.

“You two looked like naturals. Do you practice yoga together often?”

Patrick laughed. “To be honest, Hamish, I did yoga for the first time a week ago. I joined David on this retreat so we could get away for a few days from our business and refresh our minds and spirits, you know?”

Hamish nodded. “Aye, that’s always important. Yoga has helped me manage the stress of growing my own business. What kind of business are ye lads in?”

David swallowed. “Well, it’s sort of a general store, but a very specific store—”

“David came up with this brilliant idea to source handmade goods into one location. It’s mostly local things like wine, cheese, facial care with natural ingredients. We’ve been looking to diversify our selection a bit. Possibly add in some accessories to make it a one-stop shop for people looking for high quality and hand-crafted goods, you know? It’s a fantastic concept and will really help tourism to our small town.”

David’s jaw dropped as Patrick spoke. He was a natural.

Hamish crossed one arm across his chest and rubbed his beard with the other hand. “That sounds amazing, mate.” He looked at David. “I’d love to hear more about it. I don’t want to cut into your meditation time, but if you’re willing to tell me more?”

David nodded vigorously. “Okay. Yes.”

“Let’s go have some tea.” Hamish started walking toward the French doors.

“You’re amazing,” David whispered to Patrick.

“You can thank me later,” Patrick whispered back.

Oh, he planned on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More yoga in tomorrow's chapter!


	13. Chapter 13

“To minimize my risk while supporting local businesses, I started this with the plan to have everything on consignment. At least to start,” David said.

Patrick watched David with astonishment. Patrick may have broken the ice, but David came through with his charisma and intelligence. Now he understood his successes as a gallery owner. Patrick sat back in the garden chair and watched the show. His chest swelled with each thing David said.

Hamish sat his cup of tea down. “That’s a fantastic idea. Something like that could work in my hometown. Our High Street has been struggling lately and this kind of business could really rejuvenate the local crofters.”

“Thanks.” David’s dimples made an appearance. “We’ve been successful securing local vendors with amazing products for our launch in a couple of weeks. I’m really pleased, but I think there’s an opportunity to add a bit of a global flair so those passing through Schitt’s Creek can pick up something special representing the area they’re in and further afield.”

Patrick bit back a smile. David was much smoother than he’d expected. That must have been what New York David had been like. At least gallery owner New York David, not necessarily the New York David who used drugs and sex to cope. They hadn’t talked a lot about David’s past directly, but Patrick had kept track of the small bits he’d shared here and there during their casual conversations in the store.

He loved seeing David in his element. Passionate about his work and selling someone else on it, just as he had to Patrick and as he likely would for his customers years to come. Patrick swallowed a lump in his throat. Years he wouldn’t see.

Hamish poured more tea into his cup. “You’ve really got my interest piqued. Did you know that I am working to help some local crofters from Scotland place their wares with a more global audience?”

Patrick and David locked eyes for a moment. “I think I read something about that.” David’s remained neutral. The man had a mean poker face when he wanted to.

“Your store might be a great fit for this. I want to identify a business or two in each province to carry these items. Harris tweed, wool scarves, handmade jewelry. Beautiful Scottish wares.” Hamish smiled and his mustache bounced at its curled ends.

“That sounds lovely.” David crossed one leg over the other and rested his hands on his knee.

Patrick filled in details on the finances and projections where he knew David would struggle a bit. Hamish ate up every word they said.

“I really think we’re onto something here, lads. I’ll be in touch next week to talk about contracts.” Hamish stood. “Thanks for sharing with me some of your meditation time. I’ll leave you be and see you later for our last class of the day.”

Hamish nodded at them both and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, Patrick turned to David and hugged him. “You did it! You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

David rubbed circles on Patrick’s back as he angled his face toward David’s neck. They held each other for another long moment before Patrick pulled back.

David wiped at his eye. “Thank you. I can’t believe we did it.” He looked at Patrick and smiled widely. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for pushing me in the right direction.”

Patrick smiled. “My pleasure. You just needed a little nudge.”

David looked down at his joggers and rubbed his palms down his thighs. Patrick had learned the signs of David’s anxiety and knew he was already up in his head and thinking about the million ways the deal could fall apart.

Patrick reached out and placed a hand on top of one of David’s and gave it a squeeze. “It’s going to work out okay. Try not to stress too much, but I understand anxiety is its own beast. How can I help?” He hated seeing the way David’s anxiety could affect him and wished he could take it away. Patrick knew that wasn’t possible, so he tried to reassure him and offer steady support as David worked through his anxiety.

“Thanks.” David blew out a breath and glanced at Patrick but didn’t hold eye contact. “It’s just—I realized we haven’t really talked about what will happen once the store opens in a couple of weeks. We’ve been so focused on getting everything ready. I’ve been so focused on that.” He looked up.

Patrick stilled at the hope in David’s eyes. Patrick wanted David to ask him to stay on and be a permanent business partner. He wanted that more than anything, but he was also terrified of David asking that because he wasn’t sure what he would say. Sticking around Schitt’s Creek for the long-term wasn’t exactly what he saw for his life. He got a thrill out of helping businesses get off the ground, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to give that up. But there was something appealing about running a business with David, a man who would keep things interesting every day.

“I never really asked Wendy for specifics on her terms as an investor. I guess that’s why I’m the creative brain,” David said in his extra campy tone. His expression grew more serious. “You’re brilliant and have a good business head. I don’t really know what your plans are, but if you’d like to keep working with me, I’d… really like that.” David swallowed and looked into Patrick’s eyes again, pulling Patrick into their obsidian depths. “As partners. Business partners.”

Patrick’s heart jumped in his throat. The hesitancy in David’s eyes had him queasy. David made demands all the time. Lip balm should be at the cash, plungers in the back, the list of scents not allowed in the store. But that was different. That was asking for something important to him.

Patrick’s phone buzzed on the table and clanked against a saucer. He looked down and saw a photo of him and Rachel, smiling while on a kayak at a lake. They hadn’t talked since he had moved to Schitt’s Creek. Patrick’s neck tightened and he pulled his hand back from David’s leg. His first thought was for her dad since he hadn’t been doing so well the last time he’d seen him. He looked up and saw David looking at the photo. His expression had shifted from hope to something Patrick didn’t even want to name. “I’m sorry, David. I have to take this.”

“Of course,” David said, waving his hand. “l’ll go meditate or something. Take your time and I’ll see you at the next class.”

Patrick’s gut twisted. He didn’t want to see David go or watch him walk away without Patrick having replied to his offer but having some extra time to think about it was probably a good thing.

He tapped the green button on his phone screen. “Hi, Rachel. Is everything okay?”

“Good to talk to you, too, Patrick.” There was a slight laugh in her voice.

Patrick rested his forehead in his hand. “Sorry. I meant to say, ‘How are you?’”

“That’s better. I’m doing well, thanks. How are you? What are you up to these days?”

Patrick cautiously chatted with Rachel as they caught each other up on their lives. The other times they had broken up, she always contacted him after a couple of months to try to get things going again. He had thought it felt final last time, finally. For them both. He really hoped he hadn’t misread that.

It was nice to talk to her again. It almost felt like no time had passed, but it also felt like a million years. He told her about Schitt’s Creek, his work with Rose Apothecary, his new friend (?), David.

“But really, how are you? I realized I miss our friendship. I needed some time to grieve, but I don’t want you out of my life.” Rachel sighed. “I miss you, Patrick. I miss your friendship.”

Patrick swallowed. “I miss our friendship too.” He really did. He really wished he had someone who knew him as well as Rachel to talk about things. Trying to figure out his career, his feelings for David, being gay. His therapist was helping, but there’s nothing like talking to someone who’s known you most of your life. “So, you’re not calling to… ” He had to ask. There was no way he would get swirled back in her orbit again.

She laughed softly. “Not this time, no. I’m actually seeing someone and it’s serious.”

Patrick smiled, feeling both relieved and happy for her. “That’s great, Rach. I can’t wait to meet him. It sounds like you’re doing okay with everything? I still feel so bad.”

Rachel was quiet for a moment. “It was hard at first because I knew in my heart that our break-up was final this time, but I now realize that it’s for the best. There was something missing there.”

Patrick’s heart thudded in his chest. His therapist had told him to practice coming out when he felt comfortable to help him build confidence. He wasn’t sure he’d have a better opportunity with her, and if he could tell her, he could tell anyone. “Um, Rachel? I think I can shed some light on that.”

“I’m listening.” Her voice was quiet, cautious.

“I’m gay.” Patrick paused for a moment, as though saying it aloud to her would kill him on the spot. It didn’t. Instead, it felt like a boulder rolled down his back, shattering on the ground into a thousand pieces of shame and doubt. “I didn’t know that when we were together, I swear. It’s been a… recent… understanding of myself.”

Rachel let out a soft laugh. “That explains _so much_.”

Patrick blinked. “You’re not mad? I’d completely understand if you were and you never wanted to talk to me again.”

“Honestly, Patrick? My first thought was that I didn’t do anything wrong. That it’s not something wrong with me—or you,” she quickly added. “It’s just that we’re not quite what the other is looking for and that feels like a relief. My therapist is going to be stoked, I think.”

Patrick laughed. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who recently took up therapy.”

“Proud of you, Brewer.”

“Right back, atcha, Rach."

She cleared her throat. “Well, in the spirit of our renewed friendship, are you dating anyone?”

Patrick looked down at his empty teacup. “Nope.” His voice sounded a bit too high pitched.

Rachel’s laugh was loud and hearty. “You are the _worst_ liar. Who is he?”

 _He_.

Two innocent letters that turned Patrick’s world upside down. Patrick smiled into the phone and appreciated how quickly she had adapted. “I’m not dating anyone! I’m not.” But he kinda, maybe, sorta, wanted to.

“Fine then. Who do you have the hots for? This guy you’re working with? You sounded a bit gushy when you spoke about him.”

Patrick released a long stream of air. “Yeah. David.”

Rachel giggled. “Spill it, Brewer. I want to hear everything about him.”

The grin took over Patrick’s face before he realized it. “He’s tall and so damn handsome. Like out of a fashion magazine. He dresses like he’s in a fashion magazine too. Rach, he’s amazing. Smart and funny and a good person.”

“Is he nice?”

Patrick laughed. “He’s a really good person.”

Patrick spent the next hour catching up with Rachel and he felt like another piece of his life had fallen into place.

#

David walked in to see Hamish’s leggings-clad body contorted like a pretzel with his goods on full display. Hamish’s legs were tucked under his armpits with his ankles crossed behind his head like the most uncomfortable pillow in the world. His hands rested under his lower back, exposing his ass and groin to the world. Probably a good thing he didn’t have the kilt on. Mostly probably.

“Jesus,” Patrick whispered.

“Tell me about it.” David could think of a few ways that kind of yoga pose could come in handy. He let out a breath. Holy shit.

“Can you do that?” Patrick asked.

David looked over at him and startled at seeing Patrick looking at him instead of Hamish. “I’ve never wished I could do a yoga pose more in my life than that one right now.”

Heat flared in Patrick’s eyes.

David would have to ask Hamish later about the preparation poses to get to that. Maybe by the time he turned fifty he’d have that kind of flexibility.

Hamish untangled himself and rocked back and forth in a downward dog position before settling onto his shins. “I know many of you might be here because you want to learn the headstand.”

“Yes, please,” David said before he could stop himself.

Hamish and a few other people in the class laughed. “Then you’ll want to pay attention to this. I’ll show you some poses to help build strength toward a headstand and handstand, safely, along with some other advanced moves and the journey toward those.”

David sat near Patrick and watched Hamish demonstrate some poses, then he had the class try a few things out. His eyes were on Hamish, but his body sensed Patrick’s presence and exactly how much space separated them.

Once Hamish finished the demonstration, he invited attendees to try the headstand or preparation poses. David tried to push his body up into a headstand. He could get one leg up and almost a second, but he couldn’t get his torso lined up right to hold his lower body in the air.

“Want a spotter?” Patrick stood and walked over to David.

“A what?” His voice was breathy from the exertion. “Is that like a lookout?” David got out of the headstand position and relaxed onto his shins, resting his hands on his lap, and looked up at Patrick.

Patrick laughed. “It’s a workout term for someone who helps or is nearby to help. If you’re bench-pressing really heavy weights, a spotter will be ready to grab the bar if you can’t keep pushing it, so you don’t decapitate yourself.”

“Ew.” David grimaced.

“Try it again, and I’ll be here to spot you. I’ll catch your feet or even help hold them up so you can get used to the feeling of being in that position.” Patrick moved to the side.

David nodded and took a deep breath. That seemed reasonable. “Okay.” He lowered his head to the ground. “You sure you’ve got me?”

“Always.” Patrick’s easy smile warmed David.

He… trusted Patrick. Yeah, he trusted him. Completely.

David clasped his fingers and cradled the back of his head. He lifted his hips into a downward dog, then walked his feet closer to his head to shift his hips in a line over his shoulder. He raised one leg straight up in the air and held it to catch his balance. Then he kicked that leg further over his head as he lifted the other leg. He couldn’t hold it and his legs fell. He kicked up again, straining his core and upper body muscles, willing his body to do this. He’d been working toward this a long time, and he wanted it. For a second, a fraction of a section, he had it. Breathing hard, his legs dropped again, and he lowered himself onto his shins for a breather.

Patrick placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got this, David.”

Patrick’s encouragement steeled his resolve. Patrick would catch him. David took a deep breath through his nose and out his mouth, then raised his left leg again and forced his right leg up. As soon as it started to fall, Patrick caught his ankle.

“I’ve got you.” Patrick didn’t push his right leg up, but he gently cradled David’s ankle.

David’s core muscles and shoulders screamed, but he kept pushing his right leg up and adjusting his left leg until they were both straight above him. He felt Patrick’s fingertips lightly touching both ankles for a moment before they were gone, and he was on his own. Ready to catch him if he fell.

He held it. One, two, three, four. “I’m coming down.” He saw Patrick’s feet step out of the way. David contracted his abs and bent his legs, pulling them close to his body until his feet touched the ground.

He let out a breath and untangled his fingers. For a moment, he stayed on the ground. He did it. He fucking did it!

David jumped up and whirled around to face Patrick. “I did it!”

Patrick’s smile matched his own. “Yeah, you did! You can do anything.” That smile was one of David’s favorites. All encouragement and pride and warmth. So much warmth.

David tentatively raised his hand for a sporty high five, but Patrick pulled him into a hug and whispered in his ear, “I’m proud of you.”

David’s heart shattered into a million pieces as he fought back tears.

Finally managing a headstand was such a silly thing. People did it all the time, but David didn’t have a tendency to continuously work toward things. He’d given up plenty of other ideas when they got too hard. That headstand—Rose Apothecary—he had worked his ass off for these goals.

And he hadn’t done either of them alone. Patrick had been there to support him when he needed it.

Patrick had been there when he needed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was a bit late posting this morning. Got caught up reading someone's fic. Y'all are so good!!!
> 
> Also, the opening image in the chapter? Got that from a social media post from my favorite kilted yoga instructor. I had to write it in. Check out @finlay0901 on IG or @scottishyogaboy on TikTok. You're welcome. Shout-out to Finlay for the fabulous yoga and kilt and general life content.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've stuck with me on the David and Patrick torture for this long and I thank you. 
> 
> CW: this chapter has some explicitly described hanky panky. I'll CW later ones with the explicit sex also.

Patrick kicked off his shoes and changed into a pair of flannel pajama pants while David was in the bathroom doing his extensive, but effective, skincare routine. He debated on whether he’d keep his shirt on for bed. At home he usually just slept in boxers, but he didn’t want to give David the wrong idea. Or maybe he did?

He was so confused. The only thing that made sense was how badly he wanted to kiss David again. It had thrummed through him all day as an unmet need.

Rachel’s words came back to him. “Be bold, Brewer. Go after what you want.”

Patrick took off his shirt and climbed into the bed. He laid on his back, covers pulled up to his armpits, scrolling on his phone. With each passing minute, his nerves grew. So did his anticipation. He let his mind wander, thinking about what he wanted to do with David and how far he wanted to go, if David was game.

A short while later, the bathroom door opened. “Hi. You look cozy.”

The nightstand lamp didn’t put off much light, but Patrick could make out David’s smile. The crooked one that meant mischief. “I feel very cozy.” Patrick reached over and lifted the covers on David’s side of the bed. “It could be cozier though.”

Who the hell was this and what had he done with Patrick?

David’s gaze wandered down to Patrick’s bare shoulders. David grabbed at the hem of his white V-neck T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “It’s a bit warm in here.”

“Mmhmm, very warm.” Patrick placed his phone on his nightstand, and he rolled over to face David.

David put his phone on his nightstand and climbed into bed, mirroring Patrick’s pose. They both faced each other with hands under their cheeks.

“Did you have fun today?” Patrick asked him.

David nodded. “Very much so. This weekend has been a bit of a whirlwind. The yoga, the headstand, the deal with Hamish.” David adjusted his head, nuzzling it further into his pillow. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, his eyes bright. “You.”

Patrick released a breath.

David’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I didn’t have a chance with the dinner and those chatty women from Toronto. Did everything go okay with the phone call you got earlier? You looked a bit, um, stressed.” David held up a hand. “But don’t feel pressured to tell me anything. Totally up to you.” He smiled softly. “I welcome any pillow talk you want to have.”

Patrick studied David’s face. The stubble more pronounced. A soft sheen to his skin, probably from the army of products he used. His eyes shining bright against the low light. He was incredibly handsome. Beautiful even. Inside and out.

“It was Rachel, my ex fiancée.”

David nodded slowly. Patrick didn’t miss the worry on his forehead.

“Frowning will give you wrinkles, David. You don’t want to make all that skincare work harder.”

The side of David’s mouth quirked up. “I’m too young for Botox.”

“Surely. You’ve got until you’re thirty-five, at least.”

David swatted at Patrick. “You’re a menace!”

Patrick caught David’s hand and pulled it to his mouth before he gave his fear a chance to take over. He placed a gentle kiss on David’s palm. David rewarded him with a sharp intake of breath.

“David, I told Rachel I’m gay.”

David intertwined his fingers with Patrick’s and smiled softly. “How did it go?”

Patrick smiled, letting the relief he felt shine through. “Amazing, actually. I think it helped give her some closure and it _definitely_ helped me to come out to someone who’s known me most of my life. It made it feel more real.”

“How do you feel?” David’s question was barely above a whisper.

“Like myself for the first time in my life.”

David’s eyes watered. His eyebrows lifted as he pressed his closed lips between his teeth.

“And like I want you to kiss me.”

David released Patrick’s hand and reached over, putting his hand just behind Patrick’s head. He pulled Patrick closer, or himself closer to Patrick. However it worked, they ended up in the middle of the bed, their bodies pressed against each other. David seemed to study Patrick for a moment, as though giving Patrick an opportunity to change his mind.

“Kiss me.” Patrick’s words came out somewhere between a demand and a plea.

David lifted up, holding himself up with his left arm. His lips were tentative at first, but as soon as Patrick felt David’s against his own, the hunger grew out of control. He placed a hand behind David’s head and stuck his fingers through David’s thick hair. He pulled David fully on top of him, snaking his other arm around David’s waist. The weight of David’s body on his own was the hottest thing he’d ever felt.

David’s tongue danced with his own. Patrick’s cock grew harder grew with each passing second. Their kisses were fevered, hungry. Their hands traveled up and down each other’s bodies.

David rolled off Patrick, onto his own back, pulling Patrick on top of him. David wrapped one of his legs around Patrick’s and the other around Patrick’s waist.

“Thank God for yoga,” Patrick murmured against David’s neck, his fingertips lingering at David’s hips. He wanted to reach between them and feel David, but his bravado was fading.

David cupped Patrick’s face with his hands. “Patrick, you are in full control here. We do what you want and go as far as you want. I want you to be comfortable and if that means we kiss until we fall asleep, that’s perfect. You set the pace.”

Patrick gave David a sly grin. “I’ve never felt so powerful.” He inched his fingertips closer to David’s cock.

“Mmhmm,” David managed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Very powerful.”

A bit closer. He kept his attention on David’s face. His thumb brushed the side of something very hard. A couple layers of cotton separated them, but Patrick could still feel it.

David’s nostrils flared. Torturing him was the most fun Patrick had had in a while. A very long while. Ever, even. David’s hands trailed down Patrick’s back, trimmed fingernails lightly scratching a path. Patrick wasn’t the only one doing the torturing.

David’s nails reached the small of Patrick’s back as Patrick grabbed David’s cock from the outside of his pants. Patrick muffled David’s “Oh my God,” with his mouth. Patrick let his fingers explore the edges and they seemed to keep going and going. Wow.

The feeling was heady. Finally allowing himself to do what he wanted, be with someone he wanted, leaning into the attraction he felt. He ground himself against David, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths.

Patrick rode the high and tugged David’s pants down so he could feel David, skin to skin. It was the best thing he’d ever felt. It’s not like feeling a cock was anything new to Patrick, since the only way he’d _really_ ever thoroughly gotten off before was with his own hand, but David? It was magical.

“David, you feel so. Damn. Good. Why the hell did I wait so long for this?”

“Because you’re an idiot?” David squeaked out. “A super sexy idiot, though. Don’t stop. Fuck.” He elongated the end of the word, grinding his hips against Patrick’s hands.

Patrick’s confidence grew as he stroked David. He started by stroking him as Patrick liked to stroke himself, but the angle was off. Soon, David’s reactions guided Patrick into a rhythm that had David squirming on the bed. Feeling David’s cock shifting against his own had Patrick harder than he’d ever been.

“Patrick, you’re going to make me come.”

Patrick increased his efforts and licked David’s neck. “Good.”

“Patrick!” David’s body jerked and Patrick felt warmth in his hand and against his stomach. He just made David Rose come.

He had never felt better in his life.

David’s eyes blinked open and his frown lines returned.

“David, I’m okay.” He kissed David’s frown lines. “In fact, I’m better than okay. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Jesus.” He kissed David with all the intensity he had, willing David to understand just how okay Patrick really was.

“Hold up, sexy. Let’s clean this up.” David climbed off of Patrick to get the tissue box from a nearby table.

Patrick took a few tissues from David and cleaned himself off. He grabbed their tissues and took them to the bathroom trash. He looked at himself in the mirror and barely recognized who he saw. His cheeks red, lips swollen, and he had the biggest smile he’d ever seen on his face.

Flipping off the bathroom light, he walked back over to the bed. David was on his side, resting his head on the palm of his hands, laying where Patrick had earlier with the blankets over his waist, but a corner pulled back for Patrick. David’s smile was shy, His natural curls were breaking out of the usual perfectly coiffed style.

“That was fun,” David said, biting his lip. “You good?”

Patrick growled. “I’m great.” He crawled on the bed toward David. “We’re just getting started. I hope you’re not too tired from yoga.”

David moaned, shifting closer to Patrick. “Definitely not too tired.”

“Good.”

David licked his lips. “On your back.”

Patrick did as he was told. His cock ached for David’s touch. He ached for David’s touch.

David kissed him. It was long and deep. Patrick was breathless when David pulled away. “You’re like a drug.”

“I could say the same about you,” Patrick said.

David dropped the covers and straddled Patrick’s waist. He had lost the joggers and sported a snug pair of black boxer-briefs that perfectly outlined just what Patrick wanted to touch again. He reached for David.

“Nuh-uh. It’s my turn to play, Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick dropped his head back against the pillow and groaned.

David licked and kissed Patrick’s neck, shoulders and chest. He ran the tip of his tongue around one of Patrick’s nipples and he thought he would explode.

“Tell me what you want, coach.”

Patrick caught the wicked glint in David’s eyes. “Oh my God, David. Using an appropriate sports reference? Are you trying to set a world record for fastest coming?”

David trailed kisses down Patrick’s chest. “Maybe.” He climbed down Patrick’s legs and tucked his thumb into the sides of Patrick’s pants. “Lift.” He tugged off Patrick’s pants, leaving him with his woefully inadequate pale blue boxers. He really needed to get himself some boxer-briefs like David’s.

“I never thought I’d say this, but these old man underwear are so sexy on you. They should be illegal.” David licked his lips as he stared at Patrick’s groin.

Maybe he’d keep the boxers after all.

With the women he’d been with, that kind of attention would have him wanting to crawl into himself until it was over. But with David? He grabbed David’s hand and placed it over his cock and squeezed.

“Jesus, Patrick. I think you’re the one who’s trying to kill me.”

“I want you to touch me. I need you to touch me.” He moved David’s hand up and down his cock.

“I normally don’t like being bossed around, but I’ll do anything you tell me to when you don’t have a shirt on.” He looked at Patrick. “Unless it involves using drugstore styling products.” David grimaced.

Patrick laughed as he released David’s hand and crossed his arms behind his head. He arched an eyebrow and issue David a silent challenge.

The focus and intent on David’s face scared and thrilled him.

“Since you said your first gay kiss was the best of your life, I guess I’d better make your first gay blowjob the best, too?”

All the air left Patrick’s body as David bent over and kissed a trail down his stomach, dragging down Patrick’s boxers. Once the boxers were off, David kept his hand just next to Patrick’s cock. Kissing around it. Just breathing on it. Patrick was falling apart.

Is this what his life would be like now? The prospect of that was heady and electrifying. He’d missed so much.

Without warning, David wrapped his long fingers around Patrick and squeezed just hard enough.

“Holy shit!” Patrick jerked and lifted his body onto his elbows. “Holy shit.”

“Buckle up, cowboy, because I’m just getting started. And I’m _really_ good at this.” David stroked, sending fire through Patrick’s body with each movement.

David made eye contact with Patrick and slowly ran his tongue across his upper lip. He turned his head and ran his tongue up Patrick’s length, doing a little swirl on the tip. Patrick wanted to climb out of his skin. He’d never felt a sensation like that.

“Keep going. Please.”

David ran his tongue up and down a few more times before taking Patrick in his mouth. Patrick let out a strangled cry as he dropped back down onto the bed. He clutched the sheets as David licked, sucked, squeezed. David was a fucking gold medalist at that. He deserved a platinum medal.

Patrick didn’t want it to end, but he felt his body tensing. “I’m going to come.”

David increased his pace and used his other hand to cup his balls.

Patrick’s body seized and his vision went black for a moment before he saw stars. Letting out ragged breaths, Patrick had to make sure he hadn’t died with the intensity of his orgasm.

“Wow. David.” He couldn’t think of other words, better words to convey how earth-shattering that had been. It was like decades of anticipation had released at once. Into David’s mouth.

David ran a finger across his lower lip as he climbed back up Patrick’s body. “You are incredibly sexy. That was the most fun I think I’ve ever had in bed.”

Patrick was still panting. “You _think_?” he managed as he wrapped his arms around David’s waist. Patrick was grinning like an idiot.

“If I admitted that it was a thousand times more fun than anything I’ve experienced, then you’ll get too big of a head. I need to leave room for growth, you know?”

Patrick nodded. “Of course. Very wise.”

David’s dimples came out to say hello.

Patrick pulled David’s face close and kissed him. Tenderly, but intense. He wanted to demonstrate his gratitude and show David just how much he appreciated him and that experience. The taste of himself in David’s mouth caused his cock to twitch.

David pulled back and glanced down where their bodies met. “Feels like you might be ready for round two soon. I thought that orgasm would have knocked you out for a week.”

Patrick moved a clump of hair out of David’s eyes. “I’ll never be able to get enough of you, David.”

#

_Cock-a-doodle-do. Cock-a-doodle-do._

He tried to block out that godforsaken sound as he struggled to wake up.

Warm arms wrapped tighter around David’s waist. David blinked his eyes open and found the top of Patrick’s head.

_Cock-a-doodle-do._

“I hate roosters,” Patrick mumbled into David’s chest.

“Me too.” David pressed a kiss to the top of Patrick’s head. In daylight. The morning after fooling around.

Who the fuck was he? Normally David would have been long gone or have woken up extra early so he could already be showered and presentable before whoever he was with woke up. Not that time. He wasn’t ready to leave the warm cocoon he and Patrick had created in that bed. He wasn’t ready to let the real world in yet because he knew the real world would strangle out all the goodness of their time together. A kind of goodness that David hadn’t realized he could experience or even deserve.

“Mm, that was nice.” Patrick kissed David’s shoulder and nuzzled his head further against David.

_Cock-a-doodle-do._

“My, God. We need to find his recording and destroy it for the well-being of his future retreat guests.”

“That would require leaving this bed and I’m not ready to do that yet.” Patrick pulled back enough to look up at David.

David loved the sappy smile on Patrick’s face. The face of a happy and satiated man. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Patrick pressed a soft kiss against David’s lips.

David smiled against Patrick’s lips and he trailed his fingertips down Patrick’s arm. Kissing a man before brushing his teeth? Another first. Patrick wasn’t the only one getting some firsts that weekend.

Patrick pulled back and crooked an arm up on his pillow, resting his head in the palm of his hand. David allowed his gaze to wander over Patrick’s chest in the daylight. He wanted to trace the path of hair with his tongue. Again.

“David?”

“Mm?” David blinked and cleared the horny haze from his mind at the sound of Patrick’s serious tone. He rested his head on his own hand.

“Thank you.”

David’s eyebrows pulled together. “For what?”

“Giving me the best night of my life.”

“Well, that’s high praise.”

Patrick chuckled. “I’m serious. I don’t know how to express to you how much… it meant to me. You made me feel safe and comfortable. You helped me explore a new part of myself and I feel free. And happy.”

David felt wetness at the corners of his eyes. Patrick’s earnestness was more addicting than aspartame. David grabbed Patrick’s free hand. “Thank you for trusting me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

Patrick looked down at their hands. “That’s the thing. You made it easy, David.”

David squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, pressing away the onslaught of worries that were at the ready to tell him how he was about to fuck it all up. “Think Hamish would notice if we just stayed in here until check-out and skipped the last class?”

Patrick laughed. “If you weren’t on the edge of signing a contract with him, I’d say let’s stay in this bed all day. But I’m not going to let you jeopardize this.”

“I can’t tell if I should be mad at you or grateful.”

“You can be both,” Patrick teased.

David’s phone buzzed. “Ugh. If it’s Alexis to send me more screenshots of her sappy text conversations with Ted, I’m going to freak out.”

He released Patrick’s hand and rolled onto his back to grab his phone.

I’ve been on pins and needles over here. Did you use my gift yet? Since when do you clam up on me like this?  
  


David rolled his eyes. “It’s just Stevie being a pain in the ass.”

“What does she want?” Patrick kissed David’s shoulder before stretching his arms above his head.

“She said she left a gift in my bag, but I haven’t seen it yet and she’s annoyed that her small demonstration of generosity isn’t being applauded.”

Patrick laughed. “You’d better go see what it is, so she’ll leave you alone.”

“Ugh. You’re right.” David reluctantly climbed out of bed and padded over to one of his suitcases. He bent over and unzipped it.

“That underwear looks even better in the daylight. So do you.” Patrick’s voice was husky.

David stood and looked over at Patrick. He lay on his back, one arm bent with his head resting on his hand, his other hand trailing lazy circles on his stomach. “You are a menace,” he hissed without venom.

David lifted his suitcase and put it on the broken-legged couch before his resolve cracked and he ran over to Patrick. He rifled through his carefully folded clothes until he felt a small bump in a side pouch. A small bag crinkled when as he pulled it out. There was a piece of paper taped to some tissue paper with a note in Stevie’s chicken scratch.

_When in Rome. Er, Scotland. Be gentle with him._

_Stevie_

David arched an eyebrow as he slid his finger under the tape and unwrapped the small package. Two condom packages fell into his hand. He turned one over and saw plaid packaging that read “McCondom. The world’s first whisky-flavored condom. Bringing Scotland to your bedroom.”

David’s laugh came all the way from his belly.

“It must be good.”

David heard the bed squeak and Patrick walk over.

“What is it?”

“Stevie found whisky-flavored condoms.” David kept laughing. “She’s so fucking ridiculous.”

Patrick laughed, but then his features darkened. “Wait, whisky like Scottish whisky?” He grabbed one. “For… for Hamish?” He looked up at David, a fire in his eyes.

David’s smile went crooked. “Read the note.” He handed it to Patrick, reveling in Patrick’s sudden grumpiness.

“Be gentle?” He looked up at David, confusion written all over his face.

“You know, for being so good with numbers and business-y things, you’re kind of dumb sometimes. I mean that in the most loving way.” He pressed his lips against Patrick’s. “She sent them as a just-in-case for _you._ ”

“Oh. Oh!” Patrick stared at Patrick. “Wait, does that mean she knows—”

“That you’re gay?” David finished in a horrified tone. “No! I didn’t tell her anything. Well, I didn’t know until we were here. But no, I’d never betray you like that.”

Patrick’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “No, that you like me. If she sent those for us, then she must have known… something.” He looked down, then back up at David with a bashful smile.

David pressed his closed lips between his teeth. “Um, yeah. She may know I have a crush on you or something.” He gave a casual and dismissive wave of his hand.

Patrick wrapped his hands around David’s waist and pulled him against him. David wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. They smiled at each other as they leaned toward each other for a long kiss.

“Think that shower is big enough for the both of us?”

“Oh, definitely.” David bit his lower lip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, McCondoms are real! I first saw them in a Glasgow pub bathroom vending machine. I also wrote a romance novel leading with them because how could I not?! It's too delightful. So of course I needed to throw one in this story :D


	15. Chapter 15

Patrick shook Hamish’s hand and said goodbye to the other members of the class, leaving David behind to talk to Hamish while he loaded their luggage in the car.

Patrick walked taller, straighter. He felt more at home in his body than ever before. Thank God for David’s yoga retreat idea. If they hadn’t had that getaway, he wasn’t sure if anything would have happened between them. Patrick would forever be grateful to David for giving him the space to explore that newly discovered part of himself, and he hoped they’d find the space (and time) to continue exploring once they were back in Schitt’s Creek. The thought of it just being a weekend of fun had his stomach in knots.

After loading their bags in his trunk, Patrick leaned against it to wait for David. The man was a wonder. He’d managed to land the deal with Hamish, nailed his first headstand, and set things right in Patrick’s world with a tenderness and enthusiasm that thrummed under Patrick’s skin.

To eat some time as he waited for David, he pulled out his phone to check his email and see if there’s been any movement on some grants he had applied for. The top of his inbox showed a message from one of his college buddies in Toronto.

_Hey Patrick,_

_What are you up to these days? I was at a networking thing last night and someone mentioned they’re looking for a business coach to help them launch a catering business here in Toronto. She mentioned she’s finishing out her current job now and will be ready to start working on the business in a few weeks. It sounds right up your alley, so I made sure to talk you up. She’d really like to talk to you. Photo of her business card attached. Give them a call and let me know how it goes? Let’s grab lunch when you’ve moved back to Toronto._

_Jake_

Patrick’s stomach sank with each word he read. A new gig. It was what he’d wanted, right? But now? After things progressed with David? He shoved his phone in his pocket and paced back and forth next to the car.

A few weeks would be right after Rose Apothecary opened. That would normally be about the time he’d move onto his next client, but he wasn’t ready to move on from David. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for that.

If he stayed in Schitt’s Creek, what would he do? It wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis with numerous opportunities to help launch businesses. But Schitt’s Creek had David.

Patrick gave his head a shake. David had started to tell him yesterday that he wanted to keep working with Patrick, but what would he do? Stock shelves? That was hardly his professional passion.

Stocking shelves with David though? Sending each other glances across the room as customers browsed. Sneaking kisses in the stock room. Arguing over the best placement of breath mints. Patrick smiled. Working with David would certainly be interesting.

Interesting, but not what he wanted to do with his career. His career was about helping business owners like David achieve their dreams.

That was Patrick’s dream. Right?

Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure.

It wasn’t just his decision, anyway. He and David hadn’t exactly talked about what the progression in their relationship had meant. Given David’s track record, Patrick doubted David was looking for something long-term. Then again, David seemed so… happy. Patrick thrived on David’s glances and moments of unguarded affection before he put his protective wall back up. That wall had stayed down more and more often.

Opening a business and signing a lease on a store showed commitment, and maybe David could make that kind of commitment in other parts of his life. Maybe. But could Patrick?

One thing he knew for sure was that he felt differently around David. More different than anyone else he’d ever been around. A part of him worried it was because David was his first male partner, but deep down he knew it was more than that. David was special. Patrick would never meet another David, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to give up his goals yet. He’d spent his teenage years and twenties living for Rachel and the dream they had together. It was time he forged his own path. It would take some hard self-evaluation to figure out what that was.

Why the fuck did he check his email before he had several hours in a car with David? Why couldn’t he have held on to the glow of their weekend a while longer before the real world snuffed it out?

“Ready to go?” David was practically skipping toward Patrick. His smile easy, shoulders relaxed. So happy.

Patrick tried to match his smile, but the way David’s own smile dropped told him he’d failed. They probably knew each other too well by that point. He knew David’s eyebrow arches could mean a dozen different things, and maybe David could read Patrick as easily. “Road trip, part deux. You can pick the music again as long as there’s no Shania Twain this time. I’ll just be forced to sing along and neither of us need that.”

“She is a national treasure and how dare you place that restriction.” His words held their usual banter, but the flirty tone had lost its usual fire.

Patrick slapped his hand on the trunk of his car and told himself to put his worry away and just enjoy the car ride with David, for the bit of remaining alone time they had.

#

Something had happened between their last yoga class and getting in the car. David’s panic rose in his throat. He had learned to read Patrick as well as he could read specs of a new fashion line. His energy was off. His excitement was less. His enthusiasm felt forced. Regret was a nasty bitch.

David knew it. He knew that if he opened himself up, he would just get hurt in the end. A part of him thought Patrick might be different, but David was still David. Why would Patrick be different than anyone else?

With the people he usually opened up to, he was used to them leaving. David was too much to handle and he had learned at a young age to push people away to protect himself. It hurt less that way. Now, he’d opened himself up to the first authentic person to step into his life, possibly ever, and he’d fucked it up. He wasn’t sure how he had, but he knew it. Maybe they moved too fast or maybe Patrick wasn’t as certain about his new identity as he’d said. Or maybe David had acted too friendly and intimate toward him in the daylight hours.

Patrick was so sensible and responsible. He was probably thinking through a dozen different ways to let David down gently. A speech about how Patrick wanted to continue working at the store, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to be business partners and lovers (boyfriends? friends with benefits?). For the sake of the business, they would need to stick to business partners, but he appreciated David and was grateful for their weekend together.

Yeah, David could heart the speech already. Well enough that Patrick wouldn’t even need to give it.

David couldn’t even get himself to sing along with Beyoncé. With each mile they traveled away from the retreat, he felt like the wonderful bubble he and Patrick had lived in the last two days had a slow leak. Like it trailed behind the car, whistling out its air until it went flat.

As Britney’s power ballad of _Toxic_ blared through the speakers, David mindlessly tapped his finger against his thigh to the beat as he pondered over how toxic he was to his own happiness. Happiness meant avoiding feelings. Avoiding complicated entanglements.

“The tank is low. I need to stop and fill up. Want any snacks?” Patrick said loudly over the music as he glanced over at David.

David shook his head. His stomach felt like a lead brick.

“No?” Patrick did a double take.

“Still full from breakfast. Thanks, though.” David looked out the passenger window.

Patrick glanced at him again, frowning. “Full from the… bowl of fruit? Okay.”

David ignored Patrick’s skeptical tone, but his stomach growled in protest. Traitorous beast.

Patrick pulled off a couple miles later. Once Patrick went inside to pay for gas, David rapidly shook his hands out to release some of the anxiety threatening to suffocate him. He should stretch his legs and walk out some of his stress. Instead he pulled his phone from his pocket and began tapping a text to Stevie. Providing support wasn’t exactly a skill set of hers, but he’d take whatever he could get. Even if it was a series of malicious barbs. His shoulders tensed at the last text in the chain from her. Laughing over the whisky-flavored condoms felt like a lifetime ago, not just hours.

S.O.S.  
  


Have a sex accident (sexident?) and break your dick? Or break his dick? How is his dick, BTW?  
  


He ignored the impulse to wax poetic about it.

Something changed.  
  


What do you mean?  
  


Things were all happy and cheery and good. Then… it just wasn’t.  
  


What happened?  
  


I have no fucking idea. I really don’t. I know I fucked it up somehow. It was great, we were great. Laughing and having fun. He left to load up the car and by the time I’d said goodbye to Hamish, Patrick was different. He could barely smile at me! I’m talking like 10 minutes. What could happen in 10 minutes?!  
  


How far out are you?  
  


An hour I think.  
  


That gives you an hour to ask him what’s wrong and talk it out. You owe it to yourself, and him.  
  


Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?  
  


I don’t fucking know. What I do know is that I haven’t seen you this happy and you need to act like an adult for once.  
  


I hate you.  
  


No more than I hate myself right now. I need a drink.  
  


The driver door opened, and Patrick handed him a plastic bag.

“What’s this?” David accepted it and held it over his lap.

“Snacks,” Patrick said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. David almost smiled.

“Thanks.” He rifled through the bag and spotted the milk chocolate Bounty bar. “Got a dark chocolate Bounty in here?”

Patrick jerked the car into drive. “Thank you, Patrick. I’m so grateful for your thoughtfulness to buy some of my favorite snacks for the drive back home because you knew a fruit bowl wasn’t enough and didn’t want me getting hangry.”

It almost felt normal. Patrick’s usual taunts that passive-aggressively pointed out when David hadn’t expressed gratitude to what seemed like a never-ending stream of Patrick doing nice things for him. Patrick sweeping the store because he knew David hated it. Patrick handling all calls from the goat farmer because he knew the old man creeped him out. Patrick sneaking over to the cafe when he got into one of his moods to grab him a coffee. Patrick indulging every one of the Rose family whims with that fond smile on his face. But that time it lacked the flavor. His words were unseasoned, bland. Hours before, as they took turns fighting over the oval-shaped mirror in the small bathroom, the verbal jesting packed more flavor than the shawarma at his favorite Lebanese restaurant in NYC.

Patrick was too good for him. Way too good. Now that David had a taste of what life could have been like if he were a good person—no, a better person, he wasn’t a _bad_ person—it hurt even more. He wanted to be a man who Patrick deserved.

“Thank you, Patrick.” His voice went soft. “You’re the most thoughtful person I know, and, well… I appreciate you.” _More than you’ll ever know._ David tentatively reached his fingers toward Patrick’s leg, but stopped. If Patrick noticed the movement, he didn’t let on.

David ripped open the Bounty bar wrapper, handing one of the two pieces to Patrick, then shoving the other in his mouth. If he didn’t have the guts to ask Patrick what was wrong or tell Patrick how he felt, there was always shame eating. “Mind if I change the music?”

Patrick grabbed his phone from the cubby on the dash, pressed his thumb against the screen to unlock it, then handed it to David. “Pick anything you want.”

He needed something to zone out to for the rest of the ride. Not happy pop music and power ballads that had his emotions clawing their way out. He landed one of Patrick’s workout playlists. Something with a heavy beat he could lose himself to for the next hour.

He knocked the volume up a couple of notches. As soon as the guitar and drum bashing screamed through the shitty audio system in Patrick’s car, he shot David a look. David pretended not to see it out of the corner of his eye, and he looked out the window for the rest of the drive.

When the motel came into view, David’s heart thudded against his chest. Somehow, getting out of Patrick’s car felt like closing the door on any shot they had. If he couldn’t be an adult long enough to have a serious conversation with Patrick while they were stuck in a car for several hours, there was no hope.

All he had to do was ask what had happened. Even a simple, “You okay?” Two words he’d used dozens of times with Patrick before. Maybe Patrick had gotten some bad news about a family member or his cricket team lost a show. Though, if it was something like that, Patrick would have shared. He would have told David all about it like he had been doing with his troubles for weeks. Part of what David had grown to appreciate so much about his relationship with Patrick was how easily they shared things with each other. David had found himself openly sharing with Patrick more and more without the man pulling everything out of him. It was… nice.

Since Patrick was clearly bothered by something and didn’t immediately share it with David, he knew it was big. Something big that had to do with David. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t face that. Not yet.

Patrick pulled into the spot in front of David’s room, and David noticed the curtains shift. Alexis must be waiting for him. Fucking great.

“Okay, well—”

“Alright, well—”

They looked at each other.

David cleared his throat. “I’d better go get caught up on the latest with Alexis and Ted. Thanks for driving.” Thanks for… everything. “If you want to take the day off tomorrow, I can handle store stuff. Since I took your days off this weekend.” David kept his eyes on the dashboard.

“Oh, I. Um. Okay, I guess.”

Right. David reached for the door handle at the same time Patrick reached for his own. “Just pop the trunk. I’ve got it.” David threw open the door and practically ran to the back of the car before Patrick could say anything else. Before he could hear Patrick’s voice another time and then spend eternity trying to decipher any tones he had and what they could mean.

He awkwardly yanked his suitcases out of the trunk and watched a jagged piece of metal scratch his luxury luggage. Perfect. Fucking perfect. A scratch that would forever remind him of the horrible way their amazing weekend ended. A scratch to remind him what could have been.

David extended the handles on the suitcases and rolled them across the disgusting ground littered with cigarette buts, beer caps, and… was that a condom? He seriously needed to find a new place to live. Maybe it was time to move back to New York and find some gallery to work at.

No, he was building a business and he would see it through. Even if that meant working alongside Patrick and nothing else happening with them. If that meant Patrick leaving and never talking to him again. David would see Rose Apothecary through. He owed himself that much.

David reached his door and refused to look back at Patrick. He hadn’t heard Patrick pull away yet. It would be so easy to just turn around and run over to the car and ask him what had changed between them so quickly.

His motel room door cracked open, and Alexis greeted him with wide eyes and a soft frown. David pushed into the room and Alexis closed the door behind him. He dropped the handles when he noticed Stevie sitting at the table, pouring three shots of something clear.

David looked between the two most important women in his life and his body jerked with a sob.

“Oh, David.” Alexis wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close for a hug.

He felt Alexis’s head jerk then heard Stevie say, “What? Fine.”

Moments later, two arms wrapped around his waist. David sobbed into Stevie and Alexis’s embrace.

Four shots, two beers and a few spins around the wall clock later, David frowned as he looked at his face in his bathroom mirror. “No amount of under-eye cream will fix this.”

“That’s Tomorrow David’s problem,” Stevie said, downing another shot then biting on a lemon as she hissed.

His vision was blurry, but he could tell his face was wrecked. He hadn’t cried so hard since he had accidentally left a suitcase with his two favorite one-of-a-kind sweaters in a Greek taxi.

“Yeah, that’s Tomorrow David’s problem. Tomorrow David will figure it out.” He said the words to himself in the mirror, but he didn’t quite feel them.

“Tomorrow David is, like, so competent. Tomorrow David is going to crush it.” Alexis hiccupped.

David walked out of the bathroom and accepted the shot Stevie held up over her head for him. He threw it down his throat as he walked over to his bed and face-planted on it.

“You should call him. You deserve to know what happened.” Stevie turned her chair to face David and Alexis’s beds.

David groaned into his pillow then turned his head toward them. “I’ve had way too much to drink for that.”

Stevie waved a hand. “Just a bit of hooch to grease the wheel.”

David lifted his head and stared at her. “Hooch? Grease the wheel? Who are you, Old Timey Tim? Are we going to go pan for gold?” He said with his shrill tone.

Alexis walked over and plopped down edge of David’s bed. “If you told us everything, we could do a better job of trying to figure out what happened. Right, Stevie?”

Stevie nodded. “Oh, definitely.”

David angled his head to better glare at his sister. “We are not using my despair to fill your daily quota of gossip.” No matter how many drinks they’d given him, he hadn’t shared specifics. They weren’t his to tell. More for Alexis than Stevie since Alexis’s ability to keep secrets was about as good as the tuna melts at Café Tropical. David may not be capable of having a difficult conversation with a man he deeply cared for—ugh—but he could protect Patrick’s privacy. It was bad enough that his sister now knew how much David liked Patrick since he was a wreck of a human being after spending the weekend with him. If he told her what had happened and she broke her vow of silence, he’d never talk forgive himself. Stevie, he could trust. Part of him wished Alexis would leave so he could just talk to Stevie.

“Ugh. David. I’m just trying to help!” She threw up her hands and marched over to the table with Stevie. “Quit being a baby and call him.”

If David and Patrick had spent the weekend high fiving each other and watching sports while talking about how hot chicks were, David’s face wouldn’t be a puffy mess. She wasn’t stupid, but she didn’t need to know about Patrick’s firsts or even have confirmation that Patrick was gay. Stevie didn’t even need to know that. For all they knew, David had just gotten hung up on another straight guy who was looking to experiment.

“I agree with your sister. You need to talk to him.”

David’s eyes felt heavy as the full force of the alcohol, exertion from yoga and, well, Patrick, minimal sleep, emotional distress, hit him. “Tomorrow David,” he mumbled.

Half asleep and thinking about his nine-step skincare routine that he was too exhausted to do, he picked up his phone and opened the text conversation with Patrick.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the angst! Gotta make them work a bit for their happily ever after :)


	16. Chapter 16

Patrick blinked through tears as he stared at the windows of Rose Apothecary at the displays that were nearly complete and so damn visually enticing that Patrick beamed with pride over David’s skill and vision. David’s dream that had somehow worked its way into Patrick’s heart. They had built something amazing. Together.

Best-case scenario: He could stay and work with David every day. They could flirt with each other as they stocked shelves. Sneak off to the back room for make-out sessions between customers. Patrick could cook him dinner while David poured drinks after their long days in the store.

Or, if he stayed, there was a chance that David wouldn’t want anything romantic with Patrick. He could have gotten it out of his system and move on to the next conquest. Patrick shook his head. No, David wasn’t about conquests. Not the David he knew. But that didn’t mean that David was necessarily ready for something with Patrick beyond their professional relationship.

If he stayed and their relationship was purely professional, could Patrick handle that? His shoulders tensed. The thought of having to act casual and disinterested around David while David could be off dating other people. Possibly being in the store when David’s new person came in and seeing them kiss in greeting. The kind of kiss greeting that Patrick had been hoping for the past several weeks. Probably longer if he was really being honest with himself.

No, Patrick couldn’t do that. He didn’t have the strength to stay and watch David be happy with anyone else. He wanted David to be happy, no matter what that meant, but Patrick wasn’t sure he was strong enough to watch anyone but him give David that happiness.

Third possibility: go to Toronto. Cut bait and run before Patrick fucked it up or David found someone more suitable for him. Start a new challenge of getting a catering business off the ground and use that to leverage his next client and just keep going. Maybe try dating some men and learn more about his sexuality.

His skin turned cold at the thought. He didn’t want to date anyone else. He wanted to get dressed up and take David on a date. He wanted to have a few drinks with David at Cafe Tropical and then walk home with him, hand in hand, tipsy and buzzing with anticipation for a night of lovemaking.

No one was more suitable for David than Patrick. They came from different worlds and had wildly different taste in clothes, but they worked. Patrick brought the steady calm to David, and David brought the vibrancy to Patrick. They meshed in all the ways that were important and differed in the ways that kept things interesting.

Patrick looked at the Rose Apothecary sign that had been hung a few days ago. He thought about David’s pure joy when it was being installed. Them standing on the sidewalk, arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning. Patrick taking David’s photo in front of it then David taking a selfie of both of them in front of it.

Somehow Patrick had gone from doing his step-aunt a favor to settling in. He’d let David Rose build a cozy pillow fort in his heart.

Patrick let out a sound that was somewhere between a strangled groan and a growl. He’d fucked everything up. They had such easy communication usually. Hell, he’d told David about Rachel and felt comfortable enough to not only come out to him but have a few firsts. That took a pretty serious amount of comfort with someone, at least for Patrick.

But when it really counted, he had chickened out. He had over three hours in the car to tell David about the job opportunity and talk to him about what he meant when he asked Patrick to stick around the store more long-term. Was that a professional or personal long-term?

Instead, he had erred to what was easy, just like he had with Rachel. Push people away and distance himself when it got tough. Except David wasn’t Rachel, and it hadn’t been easy. Patrick was practically on the verge of throwing up.

He took another look at the front of Rose Apothecary and started his car. He had to figure out how to fix this. Patrick reached up to throw the car into reverse and felt his pocket buzz. The selfie of he and David from when the sign was being installed flashed on his screen. The contact profile photo he’d set for David. Patrick held his breath.

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Huh? David was texting with his eyes closed or drunk. Maybe high. He re-read the message several times before he could decipher it. Oh.

Patrick knew where he had to go. Minutes later, he pulled in at the motel. There were a few more cars there now than there had been when he’d dropped David off earlier, so he pulled into a spot at the office. Turning off his car, he took a steadying breath and tried to unscramble his thoughts enough to figure out what to tell David.

“Brewer.” Stevie stood outside the office with her arms crossed over her chest. Alexis stood next to her with a hand on her hip.

He smiled at the sight of them, but it quickly faltered when he noticed how menacing they looked. “Hey, I’m here to see David.”

“Mm-mm. Nope.” Alexis shook her head.

“What did you do to him?” Stevie narrowed her eyes.

David’s security team could give the Secret Service a run for their money.

Patrick ran a hand through his hair. “I just really need to talk to him.”

Stevie moved to block his path. “He’s sleeping, and kinda drunk, and you’re not going in there right now.” She looked up at him, fierce and defiant.

Patrick fought the urge to smile. He loved that David had people in his life who cared about him that much. Hell, Patrick was one of those people and he needed Stevie and Alexis to understand that too. He needed them on his team, or at least not actively playing against him.

“Okay, can we talk then? I’d like to fill you both in on some things.”

“Ugh. Finally! David’s been holding out on us.” Alexis turned and marched into the office.

David hadn’t told them everything?

Stevie gestured for him to go first. He couldn’t help but feel like that’s how some people got iced. Assassin to the front and back. Patrick settled on the couch. Stevie took her usual spot behind the counter, and Alexis rested on the arm of a chair.

“We’re waiting.” Alexis raised an eyebrow. He could sense her eagerness for some gossip, but she was doing a good job of showing her protective sister side.

Patrick let out a long breath. “I’m gay. I mean, you may have already assumed that. It’s not that you would assume I’m straight, but I know I give off straight vibes. Or at least that’s what David told me. Anyway.” He looked up at them and expected shock or something. “Are you surprised?”

They both shook their heads.

“Did-did David tell you?” He didn’t think David would, but it’s not like he had explicitly asked David to keep the secret with him.

“Of course he didn’t, but being around the two of you for more than five minutes makes it pretty fucking clear that you both want each other’s dicks.” Stevie started clicking at the computer. Probably starting up another round of Solitaire.

“Go on,” Alexis encouraged as she settled into the chair.

“It’s a pretty new revelation for me and David is the first…”

“Guy you have feelings for?” Alexis asked softly.

Patrick nodded. Not sure he trusted his voice.

“Aww, Button! That’s, like, so sweet.” She scrunched her face up in a smile.

He cleared his throat a few moments later. “We had an amazing weekend and then I screwed it up. Something came up and I should have talked to him about it, but instead of doing that, I got all weird and he got all weird then we got all weird, and now everything’s ruined.” He dropped his head back against the couch.

“What came up?” Stevie asked.

He paused. It didn’t feel right to tell them before talking to David about it. He’d already acted like a dumb high schooler and spilling to them first would have him regressing back to primary school bullshit. “I should probably talk to David about that first. Sorry.”

Alexis rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Stevie considered him for a moment and then nodded once.

“Can I go talk to him now?” Patrick sat up.

Alexis placed her hand on his knee. “Give him some time. Any conversation you have with him now won’t be very productive. We got him pretty liquored up and he crashed a little bit ago and I’m sure he wouldn’t want you seeing him like that. Talking about this might be best while sober. And maybe over food?”

“Tomorrow I guess?” Patrick’s heart sank. He mentally calculated how many hours were left in the day. How many hours until he could talk to David. He already knew he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. He’d better buckle in for a long night and a lot of hours to plan how he was going to have a very important conversation with him.

Alexis smiled softly. “That’s for the best.”

Patrick smiled back at her, then Stevie. “He’s really lucky to have watchdogs like you.”

“Woof.” Stevie said, but she smiled.

#

_Knock knock._

David rolled over.

_Knock knock._

He pulled the blankets over his head. Whoever was knocking at one of the rooms needed to fucking stop.

_Knock knock._

David rolled over again and groaned. His mind caught up to the fact that the volume of the knock indicated it was at his door.

“Alexis, answer it.”

_Knock knock._

“You’re such a B! Answer it.” He cracked open one eye and wiped away the crust. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cottonballs and his head still spun a bit from all the vodka.

The room was empty. “Alexis, if you forgot your key, I’m not getting up to answer the door. Go get a spare from Stevie.”

He blinked a few more times and saw a glass of water on his nightstand with a couple of pills on it.

_Out with Ted for the morning. Take these so you’re not a monster when I’m back this afternoon._

_A_

_Knock knock._

“Ugh! Fine!” David strained to raise his heavy body. The weekend of yoga had caught up to his muscles. Among other things. His heart was heavier than his body. David popped the two white pills in his mouth and swallowed them with a gulp of water. Part of him hoped they were less of the pain-relieving variety and more of the sleep-for-three-days-so-he-didn’t-have-to-think variety.

He carried the water with him to the door, swishing a bit more around to try and rid some of the booze/chocolate/cheesy poof/morning breath bouquet that was assaulting his nose.

It had better be the police looking for a missing child. Anyone else was about to have their head ripped off. David pulled open the door a crack. “Can I help y—”

“Good morning.” Patrick smiled in that endearingly sexy way that only he could pull off. How fucking _dare_ he. Looking all warm and sweet and stressed? The bags under his eyes could give Saint Laurent a run for their money. David didn’t need a mirror to know his hair looked more wild than a mane of a lion who had gotten into a fight with another pride, he still wore the same sweater that had now probably been stretched to an unfixable shape, and morning breath bad enough to knock an elephant over.

David slammed the door closed. No way. Nuh-uh.

“David, please open the door.”

“It is barely passed eight. How dare you try to see me like this,” he hissed.

Patrick had the audacity to laugh. To laugh!

“I’ve seen you well before eight and a lot more rumpled.”

David sniffed. Pancakes? The sneaky little git. He cracked the door open and looked down. Patrick held a plastic bag that had steam coming off the top. _Fresh_ pancakes. He reached out a hand to grab them, but Patrick was too quick. He held them behind his back, out of David’s reach.

“The pancakes are all yours if I can come in and talk.” Patrick The Torturer held up a coffee to go cup and blew the smell of caffeine toward David’s face.

David sniffed like a pig hunting for truffles. His body was already swinging the door open for food before his brain could stop it. “Blackmail.” He turned away and walked toward the bathroom. If he were going to enjoy pancakes, he certainly wasn’t going to sully the flavor with the crapshow happening in his mouth.

He tried to ignore Patrick as he cleared off the empty vodka bottle, cups and lemon carcasses off the small motel room table. David brushed every surface in his mouth for several more minutes while Patrick sat out the breakfast for them both.

“If you keep brushing that hard, you’re going to turn the bristles to nubs.”

David spit in the sink, ignoring the fresh raw spots on his gums.

Fighting the urge to hop in the shower and change his clothes, David left the bathroom and sat down at the table. Patrick had placed a napkin for each of them with plastic silverware on each one. He even had a few fresh wildflowers picked and sitting in an empty coffee mug in the middle of the table. David looked at Patrick and angled his head, biting back a smile.

Patrick opened the containers and the aroma of fresh pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon had David sighing. Patrick started cutting slices of his own pancakes without saying a word. Okay. David frowned but reached for his coffee. David wasn’t sure whether he should be apologizing profusely or reading Patrick the riot act. The more he’d reflected on yesterday, between shots and during the few lucid moments he had while getting up to pee in the night, he felt even more confused about it all.

Each bite of food had David feeling more settled. He hadn’t missed that his pancakes had chocolate chips and Patrick’s didn’t. David loved chocolate chips in his pancakes.

They ate in silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, but David wasn’t crawling out of his skin either. The kind of silence that grew heavier each minute as they wound toward an inevitable conversation. Though, having Patrick back in the same room as him brought him comfort. A scary amount of comfort.

David looked at his last bite of pancake. He knew that as soon as he finished it, things would get serious. Whatever Patrick had come there for would happen and David didn’t know if he was ready for it.

He stabbed the fluffy piece with the plastic fork and stared at it. Reveling in the unknown for a bit longer. Before things got too real. Before things officially ended. He hadn’t been dumped over pancakes before. That would be a first. He’d been dumped over sushi, tapas, a sketchy gyro, and lots of drinks. But not his beloved breakfast food.

David frowned. Dumped would imply that he and Patrick were _something_. Something more than two friends and colleagues who had mind-blowing—

“You’re killing me right now.”

David looked up at Patrick. His eyes were bright and eager, if impatient. A bit nervous. Though, he didn’t look afraid or like he knew he was about to break David’s heart. David had to trust he knew how to read Patrick. With burgeoning bravery and hope in his heart, David took the last bite while staring at Patrick.

“Thank you for this delicious breakfast.” David put his silverware and napkin in the cardboard to-go container then closed it. He rested his hands on his lap, trying to find the right words to ask Patrick why he had done a complete one-eighty yesterday.

“Now that I’ve fed you, can we talk?”

David nodded cautiously, grateful that he didn’t have to be the first one to speak.

Patrick released a shaky breath. “I have something to tell you.”

David’s gut heaved. All of the delicious breakfast food threatening to make a reappearance. “You’re straight.” He said it as a statement, not a question.

Patrick’s head jerked back. “Straight? What? No. No way.” He blinked a few times. “I’m very gay. Like, Queer Eye gay. Neil Patrick Harris gay. After our weekend together, I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of that.”

The side of David’s mouth quirked up. “Okay.”

“If I were straight, would I be looking back at that bed and wondering how I can get you over there without worrying about your sister or parents walking in? Yeah, not straight.”

David glanced over at his bed.

Patrick stared at David. “Sorry, I’m just sort of shocked that you thought I was coming here to tell you I’m straight. I mean, wasn’t it obvious I wasn’t?”

Heat singed David’s cheeks. “Logically, yes. It’s, um, very, obvious that you’re attracted to men. But, logic doesn’t always win. I’ve been burned a few times in that department and it’s hard to shake the ghost of that.” He played with the hem of his sweater.

“Look, I know I got weird yesterday and that’s what I want to talk to you about.” Patrick’s voice was soft and assuring.

David nodded, steeling himself.

Patrick ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I thought about this conversation a million times since yesterday and now that I’m sitting here with you, I can’t find the words.”

David understood completely. He swallowed. Time to be brave. “Let’s see if I can help. Everything seemed find in the morning, but something happened after you loaded our bags. Were you hit with regret? Or fear? Or something?” David wished he could see into Patrick’s mind and just grab it out of there.

“No! Not regret. Absolutely no regret.” Patrick stared hard at David, as though he was willing David to believe him. “I regret nothing about our time together. Nothing.”

The decisiveness in Patrick’s tone helped David relax a bit.

“But you’re right. Something did happen. I got an email and it completely threw me off and I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t have any time to collect myself before you came outside. I knew I was off, and you sensed it and I messed everything up. I should have just told you as soon as we got in the car, but I panicked because I’m an idiot.”

And David was an idiot for not asking. “What was the email? Is everything okay? Are you okay? Was it test results or something?” David’s voice grew higher as the thought of Patrick being ill struck him. He’d considered a million possibilities, but Patrick’s mortality wasn’t one of them.

“No, thank God. No, I got word about a job opportunity.”

David opened his mouth and then closed it again. He felt his eyebrows press together. “Job opportunity? Are you looking for jobs?”

Patrick looked away and seemed to gather himself. “No, not actively.”

“Okay.”

Patrick was leaving. Leaving Rose Apothecary. Leaving Schitt’s Creek.

Leaving David.

“Okay,” David said again, as though it would help.

“My work is usually helping a client launch a business and then I move on to the next one. That’s why Wendy thought I’d be great to work with you.” He had a soft smile. “Usually I stick around through opening and then I’m on to something else.”

David was so stupid. He’d been so focused on the business and living in the moment with Patrick that he hadn’t really thought about what would happen after the store opened. He thought Patrick was in it for the long haul. And asking him about it the other day was more of a formality than anything. Thinking back, Patrick had never responded to his offer. Rachel had called and they never talked about it.

“And Rose Apothecary is about to open, so you’re on to the next one?” David’s voice was flat. He felt detached from his body, his emotions. He could feel himself starting to shift inward to protect himself. He fought the impulse with everything he had, but it might be a losing battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least they're finally communicating! Knuckleheads.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the angst! I hope this is better :)

Patrick dropped his forehead into his hands. He was screwing it up. He sat up and held up a hand. “No, it’s not that. That’s the problem.” He gave his head a shake. “Not a problem. It’s not a problem. Ugh!”

David reached over and put his hand on top of Patrick’s. He looked in David’s eyes and saw fear, borderline terror, but he was still trying to comfort Patrick. Given what David had shared about his past and what he’d witnessed of David’s developing expressed empathy, he imagined David wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and Patrick was just torturing them both.

Patrick flipped his hand over and grasped David’s, holding on for dear life. “When I told Wendy I’d work with you, I thought it would be a short-term thing. I’d do what I normally do, and then I’d find a new opportunity. But then you happened, David.”

David’s eyes glistened. He stayed quiet.

“You got under my skin. Spending days with you has been incredible. Spending the weekend with you was…” Patrick laughed. “Whatever is better than incredible.”

“Spectacular?” David pinched his lips together.

Patrick nodded, smiling a bit. “Yeah. Definitely that.”

He intertwined his fingers with David’s. “Then, when you asked me to stick with the business more permanently, I was shocked because I hadn’t been thinking about the next step. I’d just been living every day, happy to be in your presence. I’d forgotten to think about what came next beyond seeing you again.”

“But you haven’t been looking at your own place or anything here, right?”

Patrick winced. “Not because I’d considered staying and decided against it. I have really just been living day-to-day and wrapped up with what’s been happening with us.”

“And putting down roots is like tempting fate.” It wasn’t a question.

Patrick shook his head. “Not at all, David. Not at all.” He was screwing it up again. Why couldn’t his mouth and brain work in tandem to say the things how he wanted to say them? Normally he loved getting flustered in David’s presence, but not when the stakes were that big.

David pulled back his hand and put it on his lap. “What do you envision when you think about your career?”

Patrick thought for a moment. “I guess I thought I’d keep taking on one project at a time until I had built a strong enough reputation to open up a business consulting agency in Toronto since there are so many opportunities there.”

David nodded slowly. “Rose Apothecary is my dream, Patrick, not yours. I would never ask you to sacrifice your dreams to help me fulfill mine.”

Patrick fought back tears. “I’ve become kind of attached to your dream though. And—” He took a deep breath and forced his shoulders to relax as he looked David square in the eyes. “I’ve become very attached to you.”

David’s eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Yes. I have never felt more myself than when I’m with you. Being around you is like adding color to a black and white TV. I don’t want to live in a black and white world any longer.”

David looked up at the ceiling for a moment, blinking several times. Then he looked at Patrick, wearing a sweet smile. “I’m very attached to you as well.”

Patrick wanted to jump up and fist pump in the air. “Yeah?”

“I’m a terrible liar, you know that.”

Patrick laughed. “Oh, I do. It’s a good thing poker isn’t a team sport.”

David glared, but it had some of its playful quality back.

“Let’s recap,” David said, his voice stronger. “You like being with me—”

“‘Like’ is a pretty mild descriptor for how I feel about being with you.” Patrick flooded his words with emotion.

The flare in David’s eyes showed he didn’t miss it. “You enjoy working on the business, but it’s not your dream. Your dream is elsewhere. I’m here, but your career is elsewhere.”

The words hung heavy between them.

“I’d be happy running Rose Apothecary with you.”

David lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “Sure, you’d be happy, but a different kind of happy. Rose Apothecary has your fingerprints on it, but in the end, it’s my baby. I get that. I also can understand that building a business consultancy is like your Rose Apothecary.”

Patrick bit his lip. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What’s this job opportunity?” David traced his finger around the lid of his quickly cooling coffee.

“An old college buddy met someone who is looking to build a catering business once their current job ends in a few weeks. It’s in Toronto and the process would be sort of like what I helped you with here.”

Except not at all. Nothing would ever be like how he worked together with David. The bickering, bantering, flirting, sporadic compromise, constant laughs.

“A few weeks.” David nodded, almost absently.

David was quiet for a bit and Patrick didn’t want to push him.

“I have an idea.” David didn’t sound too excited about it. “Fuck. Adulting is hard.” He blew out a breath. “Okay. I propose that you stay through the launch of the store because I’m definitely going to need your help. I also want you to investigate this job opportunity. Give yourself some time to explore it. Go to Toronto and meet with them. I think you need to get out of Schitt’s Creek—” He held Patrick’s stare. “And away from me, for a few days, to weigh your options.”

Most people would have thrown a fit and given an ultimatum. Rachel definitely would have. Hell, that was one of the reasons they had broken up over the years. David was different. His flavor of affection was a kind Patrick understood at a fundamental level. Caring about someone so much that you want what’s best for them and what they want. If the tables were reversed, Patrick would have asked the same of David.

Patrick couldn’t imagine wanting to leave Schitt’s Creek, and David, but he owed it to himself to check it out. Not just to himself, but to David. If he stayed, David needed to know Patrick chose that option because he wanted to otherwise David would forever worry Patrick had given up a better life or resent David. Patrick didn’t think the same way David did, but he had begun to understand how his anxiety worked and the leaps his mind could take. Sometimes, very, very big leaps.

Patrick had an idea and if he played it right… “Okay, but can I propose an addition to this agreement?”

David tugged his lower lip into his mouth, then did that adorable head shake thing. “Okay.”

“We pick up where we left off before I ruined yesterday.”

“When you mean ‘pick up,’ you mean fool around?” David’s eyes flashed.

“Not just fool around but be with each other. Date, I guess?”

David straightened in his chair. “Wouldn’t that complicate things though? I don’t want to pressure you one way or the other on your decision.”

He loved it when he could out-logic the brilliant David Rose. Sparring with him was like a chess match, and it was _so hot_. David had walked right into his trap. “If I’m going to fully explore the option of going to Toronto, it’s only fair that I fully explore the option of staying in Schitt’s Creek. Staying here means being with you, at least in my mind, and it seems like you’re on the same page.” Patrick’s voice grew firmer as he found the boldness lurking underneath layers of fear. He paused for a moment and David nodded. “Then getting a real taste of what it would be like to stay features you, David, and dating you.”

David’s mouth opened and closed several times then he raised his coffee to his mouth.

Check mate.

“You don’t play fair. You come wake me up and put me at a disadvantage. Bring me my favorite food and overwhelm my senses with the smell of your shampoo and coffee. I think waiting until lunch would have been fair. Letting me shower first and get my wits about me.” David frowned, but Patrick could see the playful glint in his eyes.

“David, you’re lucky I didn’t barge in here last night when I came over. Stevie and Alexis stopped me and made me wait for _hours_ to see you. I almost went to the café when they opened. You’re really lucky I waited until after eight because it was torture. I’m only human.”

David’s eyebrows raised. “You came by last night?”

Patrick nodded. “Worst night of my life. Having to wait to talk to you and apologize, but they said you were, um, asleep.”

David looked down. “You’re so diplomatic.” He looked back up and Patrick focused on his eyes like they were his salvation. “I shouldn’t have gotten drunk. I should have asked you what was wrong in the car so we could have talked about it instead of going on an anxiety spiral. I should have called you and apologized instead of drinking. I should have done a lot of things. I’m sorry, Patrick.”

He reached out and intertwined his fingers with David’s. “We’re both learning how to do this. I think we need to give each other some grace.”

#

“It's looking great in here, David. You have an amazing eye.” Patrick smiled at him over a stack of blankets he’d just finished folding.

David only had to re-teach him how to fold them properly three times. “Thank you. I also have incredible style and have been known to help people select fantastic wardrobes.” He pointedly looked down at Patrick’s hiking boots and budget jeans.

Patrick let out a laugh as he turned around to put the blankets on the wood and iron shelves.

David snuck a look at Patrick’s ass. Aside from his smile, that might be his favorite part of Patrick’s body and one he’d miss very much when Patrick moved to Toronto.

If.

When.

_If._

Each day they’d spent together the past two weeks had been better than the last, and increasingly bittersweet as Patrick’s decision about his future approached.

Their trips to visit new and possible vendors. Setting up the store. Going wine tasting. Talking walks by the creek. Hanging out with Stevie and Alexis. Normal, every day dating stuff. Relationship stuff.

David had devolved into a bundle of nerves most of the time. Alexis was about ready to kick him out of their room. He used all of his energy trying to seem normal with Patrick during the day and enjoy their time, that by the time Patrick would drive back to Wendy’s in Elmdale and David was left at the motel, he couldn’t hide the anxiety and stress. Understandable that Alexis had started sleeping at Ted’s more often. If only David’s parents weren’t a thin wall away, he would have Patrick sleep over all the time.

“Is that your not so subtle way of saying you’d like to pick out a new wardrobe for me? Burn my hiking boots in a Viking-style funeral?”

David checked the face toner off his “to be merchandised” checklist. “I hardly think they deserve such a grand send-off. There’s a perfectly good dumpster out back.”

Patrick turned back around and held his hand over his heart. “Ouch, David. That really hurts.” His sly grin said otherwise, but David got momentarily distracted by Patrick’s polyblend blue button-up. That was his third favorite of Patrick’s blue shirts. A decision he’d made once he began ranking and cataloging them in his mind to recall later. He especially loved it when Patrick rolled up the sleeves to reveal his strong forearms. Forearms that were so good at—

“David? You okay? You’re looking a bit… frazzled.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Forearms. Just trying to do my _job_ , you know.” He tried to focus on the table of products in front of him instead of Patrick’s hiking boot clad feed striding toward him like a predator.

Patrick placed his hands on David’s hips and spun him so they faced each other. “Mr. Forearms?” The side of Patrick’s mouth turned up.

David blinked rapidly a few times and looked around the room. “Mr. Brewer. I’m positive I said Mr. Brewer.”

“Did you, Mr. Rose? I could have sworn I heard Mr. Forearms.” He took a step closer to David. Their bodies almost touching. “Do you like my forearms?”

David nodded casually, trying to seem disinterested, but the growth in his pants told another story. He nibbled on the corner of his lower lip.

“Do you like when they do this?” He tugged David’s hips against his own. Their groins and stomachs flush against each other.

David sat his clipboard on the table. “Mmhmm.” He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s neck. Though David was taller, Patrick sure had a way of making him feel smaller in the hottest way.

“And this?” Patrick reached back and squeezed David’s ass.

David let out a little moan. “I do like that.”

“What about when they do this?” Patrick didn’t break eye contact with David as he reached between them and traced the edges of David’s hardening cock through his skinny jeans.

“That might be my favorite thing that they do.” David bent his head down to take Patrick’s lips. He tried to focus on the moment. The feel of Patrick’s lips against his, his body pressed against his own, the growing heat they produced around them like an inferno.

Not that this could be one of the last times they ended their workday by making out in the store. Tumbling together in the storage room until they were sweaty and sated.

David normally understood that things didn’t last forever. Growing up as wealthy as he had with a revolving line of paid staff, friends, lovers - he knew nothing was forever and he had steeled himself for that.

Until Patrick.

David wanted Patrick forever.

Oh my God.

David squeezed his eyes shut harder and tried to quell the rising panic, using Patrick’s heated kisses as buoys. He wanted to show Patrick how much he cared for him. Probably even loved him. Okay, more than probably.

Patrick began tugging David back to the store room. But that wasn’t enough. Not then. David needed a full night with Patrick where they weren’t whispering or muzzling each other’s cries with each other’s mouths in the backseat of Patrick’s car. David wanted to get Patrick fully naked and on a bed. Not pants down on an old loveseat at their store.

Their store. Interesting.

“I have an idea.” David disentangled himself from Patrick and took a wide step back. He pulled out his phone.

“David!” Patrick said in a high-pitched voice. “This is a terrible idea so far.” He stepped toward David with his arms out.

David pressed the heel of his hand against Patrick’s forehead. He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he saw the desire in Patrick’s eyes turn to annoyance.

“Sorry. I know, I know.” He tried not to act taller, but sometimes it happened… “Trust me, I have an idea you’re going to _love_.”

He opened his text conversation with Stevie.

Is the honeymoon suite available tonight?  
  


The dots started bouncing immediately.

The room that looks like it was bathed in the blood of a 1970s vampire? Yeah, it’s open. You want it? [eggplant emoji]  
  


You really need to add some new emoji to your repertoire. And, yeah, I want the room. Are there neighbors on either side?  
  


Lucky for you, not right now unless some lonely truck driver or a family of on a road trip stop in for a last-minute reservation. I’ll be sure to put them on either side.  
  


I hate you. And thank you. Could you leave the door unlocked for us and the key inside? I’ll leave a bottle of our vintage wine in the room for you. I’ll even clean the sheets myself tomorrow.  
  


You must be desperate. Yeah, sure. I wouldn’t want to see me before banging it out with my boyfriend either. Remember to hydrate.  
  


He’s not my boyfriend. If you’ve got any Gatorade, that wouldn’t be a bad thing to leave in the room with the key.  
  


Does it look like I run a general store to you? That’s your gig.  
  


David began to type back, “It’s not a general store. It’s a very specific—” but then he realized she was just baiting him.

David slid his phone into his pocket and licked his lips as he looked at Patrick. Patrick’s pupils flared in response.

He couldn’t believe he was going to bring Patrick back to the motel. Where his sister was. Where his parents were. Desperate times. No, trying times. Really fucking trying and difficult times called for emergency motel reservations.

“Alright Mr. Forearms, you’re going to go home and pack an overnight bag and meet me back at the hotel. Room nine. The door will be unlocked. I’m going to go get some Gatorade and meet you there.”

“G-Gatorade?”

David slapped Patrick on the ass as he strode to the back room to grab his bag. He stopped at the curtain that separated the spaces and looked back at a dumbfounded Patrick. “The longer you stand there, the longer my clothes stay on.”

Two seconds later, Patrick had his keys pulled out of his pocket and was out the front door.

David walked as fast as his long legs would take him back to the motel, after swinging by the gas station to grab Gatorade and a bag of ice. He looked around as he approached the motel, checking to make sure he’d beat Patrick there. Thank goodness, his car wasn’t there yet. He scoped out his and his parent’s doors to make sure they weren’t out loitering about. Not that they spent much time outside their rooms, but his luck would have them knowing where he planned to spend the night. He’d prefer them to think David was at Patrick’s or elsewhere, not just a few doors down.

He reached room nine and tried the handle. It opened, and he sent a silent thank you to Stevie. She had the room key and a two individually wrapped breath mints on the table. She definitely had her considerate moments. He smiled.

David grabbed the plastic ice bucket and dumped some of the ice he bought in it. No way he would risk making that much noise at the motel ice machine. He shoved the two Gatorade bottles in there and unwrapped two of the disposable water cups, placing one on each side of the bucket.

He chuckled at the sight. Patrick would find that touch funny and probably endearing.

It had been fifteen minutes already. If he knew Patrick as well as he thought he did, the man was probably sprinting around his room at Ray’s to gather things. David had better hurry.

He took off his sweater and carefully folded it. He tentatively opened one of the dresser drawers, fearing a musty smell. The surface looked clean. Probably cleaner than other surfaces in the room. With a grimace, he placed his sweater in the drawer and did the same with his undershirt and jeans. He considered dropping the boxers too, but he wanted Patrick to pull those off of him.

The memory of how Patrick had looked at him at the retreat when he saw David in the boxer-briefs. David would never forget the hunger in Patrick’s eyes.

David used his thumb and forefinger to carefully peel back the comforter on the bed. He knew those weren’t washed often enough for his liking.

He shot a quick text to Patrick.

Hurry.  
  


He grinned thinking about Patrick’s expression receiving the text. The only thing hotter than how Patrick made him feel was seeing how he made Patrick feel.

David rested an elbow on a pillow and stretched his body down the king-sized bed, holding his neck up. Movement caught his eye. He looked up and saw his reflection. His initial reaction was to cringe and look away, but then he realized he’d be able to look at Patrick from all angles. David bit his lip. It was going to be a fun night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better stock up on some Gatorade for tomorrow's chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super long compared to the others! But I'm not sorry lol

Patrick parked as far from the office and David’s parents’ room as he could. He turned off his engine and grabbed the duffel bag from his passenger seat. He had no idea what he’d packed. He just threw random shit in a bag. Hopefully, enough for some sort of an outfit for tomorrow and his toothbrush. He hoped David would want to stay with him the whole night in the room. Patrick wanted so much from David, including falling asleep with David in his arms.

Anticipation crackled across his skin as he walked toward room nine. He didn’t see a light on through the curtain. He really hoped he had the right room.

Patrick glanced down at his phone again.

Hurry.  
  


A shiver wracked his body.

He knocked gently, then opened the door. His mouth went dry at the sight of David sprawled out like a Greek god on the bed. A nightstand lamp producing a soft glow. He barely noticed the tacky red décor because his eyes were not leaving David. Patrick dropped his bag on the floor, closed and locked the door behind him, and had his shirt off in less than five seconds.

“I really like the energy you’re bringing to the table right now.” David dropped his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

Patrick threw his shirt on the floor, ignoring the look of horror on David’s face. He stood in front of David, breathing hard as he looked down at him. David leisurely reached out and began undoing Patrick’s belt as he kissed and licked his stomach. “Jesus.”

David worked on the button of his jeans next. His long fingers took their time. Each second killed Patrick, but he _loved_ it. He loved how he responded to the slightest touch of David.

The zipper lowered torturously slow. Once his jeans were open, Patrick’s hard cock strained to reach David’s face.

David stuck the tip of his tongue out and lazily traced circles around the tip of Patrick’s cock over his boxers. “Fuck. David. Fuck.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” He looked up at Patrick and ran his tongue over the fabric.

“Yes.” Patrick said with force. “I want to fuck you.”

David’s answering dimples almost made him come on the spot. “I’ve been thinking about you in my mouth all day. I want you to fuck my mouth.”

Patrick shook his head. “No, not that kind of fuck. I want to fuck _you_.” He’d been thinking about it almost non-stop since the retreat. Hell, even before. He wanted to feel himself buried to the hilt in David.

David’s mouth fell open. “Like, that kind of _fuck_?”

Patrick wet his lower lip. “Yes. That’s what I want. How do you feel about that?”

David looked up at Patrick, his chest rising and falling fast. “I feel like that might be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Patrick simultaneously stepped out of his jeans while pushing David back on the bed. He kissed him as hard and hot as he could. He wanted David to know—to feel—how turned on he was.

He reached between them and stroked David’s cock. Fuck. It was so hard.

“David.” Patrick licked and nibbled down David’s neck.

“Mm?” He dug his fingernails into Patrick’s back.

“I’m going to need you to guide me a bit.” He felt a bit of doubt and shyness creep in. “I mean, I’ve Googled and seen porn, but I want to make sure you feel good.” He sounded like such an idiot. Needing to be talked through sex. He just knew that making it good for him would involve a few more steps than with Rachel and he wanted nothing more than to make it good for David.

David opened his eyes and cupped Patrick’s face. “God. I love—”

Patrick’s heart thudded against his chest hard enough that he knew David had to feel it.

David blinked a couple of times. “How thoughtful you are. You are so hot.”

He knew that’s not what David meant to say. Knew it. He didn’t think he could get any more turned on.

“And good news? No one on either side of us.” David jerked his head to the wall behind him.

Patrick kissed him deeply, then pulled back. “So, you’re saying I can make you scream my name.”

All David could manage was a nod.

Though Patrick was by far the least experienced of them, David had a way of making him feel strong. Powerful. Sexy. Comfortable to roll with his impulses.

“I’m going to grab a couple of things from my bag.”

Patrick reluctantly pulled his body off of David’s so he could get off the bed. David picked up Patrick’s jeans and shirt and quickly folded them, placing them in a drawer where presumably David’s clothes were neatly folded. Patrick smiled.

Patrick studied David’s lean frame as he hunched over the black bag he brought to the store every day. His gaze stopped on David’s firm ass in those sexy boxer-briefs. An ass he would be buried in soon. Patrick reached down and grabbed himself.

David spun around with his hands clutching things, and his stare traveled directly to Patrick’s hand. “Just when I think you can’t get any sexier, you do something like that.”

“I was looking at your ass and felt inspired.” Patrick slowly stroked himself.

The groan David released as he strode back to the bed with a couple of things in his hands nearly did Patrick in. David dropped them on the nightstand and dodged Patrick’s attempt to grab his hips. “I’ve got to grab a couple more things.”

Patrick watched him walk into the bathroom, and he heard the water running. He looked over at what David had dropped off. A bottle of lube and a condom. The whisky-flavored condom. Patrick laughed. How had he gotten so lucky to meet someone who could have him squirming with need and laughing in the same moment?

He was really going to doing this. Really _getting_ to do this.

A few moments later David walked out with washcloths and the bathroom trashcan. “These are for later, so neither of us have to jump out of bed quickly.”

Because he wanted to cuddle after. The tenderness of that had Patrick’s heart jumping in his throat.

David placed the wet washcloth on top of the dry one next to the lube on the nightstand as though he were meticulously lining up products at the store.

Patrick reached for David’s hips again, and this time David let himself be grabbed. Patrick tucked his fingers in the band of David’s underwear and slowly tugged them down, enjoying every inch of his cock being revealed.

Once it cleared the cotton, Patrick’s mouth was on it, hot and hungry. It had only been a day since he’d had David in his mouth, but it felt like a year.

“Oh, God. Patrick. Fuck. You’re so good at this.”

Patrick looked up and saw David’s head fall backward as his fingers snaked through Patrick’s hair. Maybe he should grow his hair out longer, so David had more to grab. He loved the length of David’s hair.

Patrick reached back and squeezed David’s ass with both hands. He ran his mouth up and down David’s length as he squeezed the back of him. David started pumping into Patrick’s mouth. Shit. That was so hot.

“Grab the lube,” David managed, stopping his pumping.

Reluctantly, Patrick released David and grabbed the lube.

“Put some on your finger.” David looked down at Patrick. His features dark against the low lamp light.

Patrick popped open the cap with his teeth and David rewarded him with a quick intake of breath. He squirted some on the pad of his forefinger.

“Now rub it all over your finger.”

Patrick did as David instructed, staring into his eyes the whole time.

David shifted closer to Patrick and grabbed his hand, reaching it around and pressing Patrick’s finger against his hole.

Instinctively, Patrick ran his finger around the outside, causing David’s body to jerk. He pressed against it, and pushed the tip of his finger in.

“More.” David widened his stance.

Patrick slowly licked the shaft of David’s cock as he pressed into David. Patrick pressed his finger in and out at a pace matching his tongue.

“More,” David moaned.

Patrick understood the meaning. He pulled his finger out and added lube to his middle finger, then pressed the pair of them against his hole, pressing inside. David’s answering moan was the sexiest thing Patrick had ever heard.

Once he could sense David had acclimated, he picked up the pace. Turned out Googling “gay anal sex 101” was a hell of a lot different from the real thing. Feeling David’s body respond to him also filled in some blanks his internet sleuthing had left out. Patrick felt like he was getting the hang of it.

Before David had a chance to say more, Patrick deep throated David as he removed his two fingers, adding lube to the third.

“Patrick. Fuck.”

Patrick felt more resistance with the third finger, but he persistently rubbed against David’s hole and carefully pressed them in. David’s moans egged him on. Between Patrick’s mouth and fingers, David didn’t seem to know which way to press his hips.

David tugged on Patrick’s hair until their eyes met. “I’m ready. I want you in me. Now.”

Patrick took all of him in his mouth one more time and ran his tongue across the tip of David’s cock before he stood and grabbed David’s ass, pressing his body against Patrick’s. They kissed hard and deep as Patrick lowered David onto the bed.

Patrick pulled back to grab the condom and lube. David shifted himself over to the middle of the giant bed. “Want to taste the whisky first?” He grinned and held up the plaid package.

“I want your cock in me.” David’s eyes were all pupil, and his mouth was slightly open as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He blinked and gave his head a shake. He reached over and grabbed Patrick’s wrist. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to. I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

Patrick slowly lifted the condom wrapper to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth without breaking eye contact. He rolled the condom over himself and squirted a generous amount of lube in his hand and ran it over his dick. He was so hard.

He crawled toward Patrick. Eyes locked on his prey. “David, I want all of my firsts to be with you.”

“Jesus,” David said in a whisper.

He pressed kisses against David’s chest. “What position feels best to you?” Communicating during sex was something he never expected to have, let alone enjoy. Somehow it made everything ten times hotter.

David squeezed Patrick’s shoulders. “I want to watch you.” He bent his knees. “I’m not quite as flexible as Hamish, yet. So, this will have to do.” He smirked as he grabbed his thighs and lifted his legs.

Patrick didn’t need to be told twice. He positioned himself between David’s legs. He wiped some extra lube he’d added to the condom and rubbed it against David’s hole to make sure it was lubed up enough. He didn’t want to hurt David.

“You’re a fast learner.”

Patrick toyed with David’s hole, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth across it, watching David squirm. “Only when I’m highly motivated.” He pressed harder against David’s hole.

“You know what else my forearms can do, David?”

“Hmm?” David looked at him with hungry eyes, pleading with him.

“Hold me up so I can do this.” Patrick pushed into David. Just because it was Patrick’s first time with a man didn’t mean it was David’s, and he knew he didn’t need to handle David with kid gloves.

David arched his back and shouted, “Fuck,” elongating the last letter.

He promised David he’d be screaming his name, and he intended to keep that promise.

Patrick pumped into him steadily, but with a pace that inched toward frantic. The feeling of David tight around him and David’s encouraging moans fueled him. Each time he got intimate with David; he didn’t think he could get more turned on. Then the next time happened.

“Harder, Patrick. Harder.” David ground his hips against Patrick’s.

Patrick happily obliged. Kissing David with everything he had. His hips slamming against David.

“Patrick! Patrick!”

Hearing his name on David’s lips pushed him over the edge. “David, I’m going to come.” He’d gone too hard trying to make David come, and he would finish first and fast like some teenager. Not what he’d had in mind on the drive over when he had been thinking about the ways to take advantage of their night in a hotel room.

David’s smile was electric. “Come in me, Patrick.” He ground his hips against Patrick’s with more intensity. They fucked each other with equal fervor. Partners.

Patrick dropped his head. He was so close. His body tensed as the orgasm built.

“I need you to come, Patrick.”

Patrick exploded. He pressed his face against David’s neck as he pumped into David, riding the wave. David ran his fingernails up Patrick’s back.

Patrick jerked a few times as his cock grew sensitive. “Told you I’d make you scream my name.” He loved that their playful competitiveness translated to the bedroom.

David kissed Patrick’s forehead, temples, cheeks, lips. Tender at first then more passionate. Patrick twitched inside of David. “You should probably get the condom off.”

Patrick moaned. “I don’t want to pull out yet.”

David smiled slyly. “You could do it again later. We have all night. I have Gatorade.”

All night.

Patrick felt David’s cock hard against him. He wanted to make David come so hard he saw stars, and he knew one way to do it. His grin matched David’s.

“There is something deliciously evil in your mind right now. I can see it,” David said as he ran his fingertips back and forth across Patrick’s shoulders.

“I want you to fuck me,” Patrick said with complete certainty.

David’s hand stilled. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. That’s a lot of firsts in one night.”

Patrick felt his cheeks heat. “I’ve been, um, sort of practicing? On my own?” He held up his hand.

David’s mouth formed into an ‘O.’ He placed a finger under Patrick’s chin and looked him square in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask you to if I wasn’t. I trust you completely.”

David blinked a few times, but Patrick didn’t miss the glistening in his eyes. “Promise me you’ll tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable? Or to slow down.”

Patrick leaned forward and kissed David intensely. “I promise,” he said against David’s lips.

David ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Wow. Okay. Yeah. Okay.”

Patrick bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He’d dealt with a lot of David’s freak-outs over the past couple of months, but he hadn’t anticipated one of them would involve asking David to fuck him in the ass.

He grabbed the sides of David’s face. “You always make me feel good. I want to do this.” He kissed David softly. “And it’s only fair. I mean, it’s kind of selfish if you’re the only one who gets fucked at the end of the night, you know?” Patrick lifted his hand and waved his hand in the air like he was showing an imaginary billboard. “David Rose, selfish in bed. The tabloids would have a field day.” He knew the last remark would work.

David’s eyes flashed fire and before Patrick knew what was happening, David had Patrick on his back and pinned to the bed. He sometimes forgot how strong David was.

“Wait, I thought I was the one who wrestled in high school.”

“You’re not the only one with Google,” he growled.

Patrick’s cock twitched. This was going to be good.

David grabbed the wet washcloth and used it to pull the condom off of him, then dropped it in the trash, bringing the washcloth back to clean Patrick up. Patrick interlocked his fingers behind his head and watched David work with that determined expression he always had when he focused on something.

“You’re so sexy when you’re focused.”

David looked up at him and smiled, a little sheepish. Patrick loved how they could easily volley from one mood to another. Ready to screw each other into a new millennium one second and cuddling the next.

David dropped the used washcloth back on the dry one. “Good. Now I won’t be worrying about your pubes while I fuck you.”

Patrick laughed. “You’re so considerate, babe.”

David lowered himself onto Patrick. “Pet names, eh? How do you feel about shnookums?” He kissed Patrick. “Sweetie-pie?” Another kiss. “Hot stuff?” Kiss.

“I’m still partial to Mr. Forearms.”

David lingered with his kiss then raised his face ever so slightly. Patrick got lost in his eyes. “Good. Mr. Forearms, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll walk funny for a week.” He kissed Patrick with a tender intensity.

Patrick held David’s face and kissed him back with every ounce of feeling he could muster. David knew exactly what to say and what to do.

David pulled back and grabbed the lube, repeating the process Patrick had used on him.

Patrick focused on regulating his breathing. That’s what he’d learned with his research, but it was a hell of a lot harder when he was in bed with a naked David Rose. He wasn’t sure he could regulate anything around that man.

David teased Patrick’s hole until Patrick was aching for him to press inside. Patrick pressed against David’s finger, trying to push it in himself. As though waiting for that signal, David started to press inside.

Patrick’s back arched off the bed. “Shit that feels good.”

David kept a steady rhythm as he worked to get Patrick comfortable. “Ready for another?”

Patrick nodded. He missed the feeling as soon as David pulled out to add more lube to the other finger. By the time David had three fingers in him and hitting his prostate, he was screaming David’s name.

“I haven’t even gotten my cock in you yet and you’re already screaming my name. You’re great for my ego.”

Patrick pressed down against David’s hand. “And you’re terrible for my cardiovascular health if you stop moving.”

David pulled his fingers out, and Patrick cried out at the loss.

“I think you’re ready for show time, big boy.” David squeezed Patrick’s cock appreciatively.

Patrick watched David climb off the bed and go over to his bag. Must be to grab another condom. “Good thing you came prepared.”

“I always knew I’d have been a good Boy Scout.”

Patrick took the reprieve to do a quick check-in with himself. Did he want to do this? Was he ready? He looked at the scratches on David’s back, the redness on his ass. Did he want David inside of him?

More than anything.

David turned around, smiling. “Found one.” He hesitated when he saw Patrick’s face.

“We can stop here. We’ve done a _lot_ , Patrick. Like, a lot for one night. For your firsts.” David sat down at the edge of the bed with such grace. Like he wasn’t naked with an ass full of lube. His fingers walked up Patrick’s body.

“It’s not that. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to do this with you. How grateful I am that you’ve made these firsts so perfect. You’re the best first.” Patrick smiled.

 _And hopefully last_ , his mind suggested. He ignored the thought because it was not the time to get all up in his head about the future.

“Oh.” David traced fingers against Patrick’s chest absently.

Patrick quickly realized David was tracing a heart.

He grabbed David’s hand and pulled him down on top of him. “I want to do this with you. Please.”

“The Canadian politeness always gets me,” David said as he leaned in for a kiss.

They kissed for several minutes. It started slow and tender, but the intensity increased as their need grew.

David pulled back, panting. “My entire body is an erogenous zone when I’m around you.” He held his face a few inches from Patrick’s as his hands wandered down Patrick’s body. Stopping to squeeze his cock, then toward his hole. His cock was already hardening again. He didn’t think it could after how hard he’d come in David, but he’d also never been with David like that before or been so turned on before. David’s fingertips dragged around the sensitive skin. “Patrick, are you ready for me to fuck you?”

Patrick swallowed the frog in his throat and found his voice. “More than anything.”

David mimicked Patrick by opening the condom wrapper with his teeth. That act had Patrick’s anticipation ratchet up tenfold.

He watched David roll it down his cock and rub lube over the condom, then he felt the warm lube coat the outside of his hole.

David retraced his steps of stretching Patrick out with one, two, then three fingers, but more quickly. Patrick was ready.

He felt the tip of David’s cock press against him. David strained, as though it was costing him so much to be gentle, but he knew David would do anything to avoid hurting Patrick. He knew that with absolute certainty.

“Please. David. Now.” Patrick managed as he ached with need.

David pressed against him harder, pushing his way inside. Patrick jerked up onto his elbows. David stilled. “Does it hurt? You okay?” He held himself still as Patrick adjusted to the new sensations. The line between pleasure and pain.

Patrick slowly wiggled his hips as his body adapted, keeping his attention trained on the way David’s eyes drifted closed and his head rolled back. He reached up and pulled David’s down for a hard kiss. “Fuck me,” he growled.

David pushed in all the way, insistent, stretching Patrick in ways he didn’t think his body could go. Patrick’s body hummed with sensation. He’d never felt such ecstasy before. He pressed against David’s hips, wanting more of him. He wanted David deeper. David released some of his control, seeming to sense Patrick’s need. Patrick reached down and dug his nails into David’s hips, pulling him closer.

“Fuck, Patrick. You feel incredible. You’re so tight.” David dropped his head next to Patrick’s.

Patrick couldn’t imagine ever feeling so. Damn. Good. Was that what penetrative sex was could be like? It’s what it would always be like with David Rose. He knew that for sure.

Patrick’s body slammed harder and harder against David’s. He wasn’t in control of it any longer. His body wanted to keep feeling… everything. And it wanted David to come.

“David, come for me,” Patrick moaned into David’s ear.

“Oh, God.” David pumped harder, faster. Sweat beaded on his forehead and Patrick leaned up and licked it off.

David pumped even faster. “I’m so close. You feel incredible. This is the best. You’re the best.” He accentuated every word with a pump.

“That’s it. That’s it.” Patrick’s sole mission was to give David the best orgasm of his life.

“Patrick. I—”

“Come for me. Scream my name.” Patrick reached down and began stroking himself.

David looked down at Patrick’s hand, then back up at his eyes. “You’re going to kill me.”

“You’re not allowed to die until you come first.”

David slammed into Patrick so hard his eyes squeezed shut, then he saw stars. It was fucking _incredible_.

“PATRICK!” He felt David’s yell to his core. His body vibrated with it.

David’s body jerked as his pumping slowed. Patrick rotated his hips and ground against David, extending David’s orgasm as long as he could.

David collapsed against Patrick’s chest.

“Are you human?” David managed between pants.

Patrick chuckled between his own labored breathing.

“Seriously? Or are you some sort of alien sent to Earth to give me the best sex of my life? Because every time you make me come is a revelation.” David turned his head to rest his cheek against Patrick’s chest, looking up at him.

Pride swelled in Patrick’s chest. “Best sex of your life? Did metropolitan David Rose just tell some country bumpkin, later-in-life new gay, that this was the best sex of his life?”

David rolled his eyes. “Don’t let this get to your head.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that, David. Far too late. I think I know what I want on my tombstone. ‘Here lies Patrick Brewer. He who rocked the world of David Rose. Three times and back.’”

“Three times? We’d better have some of that Gatorade then.” David grinned at him.

Being with David was so easy. And fun. So damn much fun.

“Gatorade isn’t a bad idea. There’s another first or two I’d like to try while we’re breaking ground. You know, after we’ve cuddled and gotten our strength back up. Maybe after my cock takes a well-deserved nap.”

David looked up at him, horrified. “What else is there?”

Patrick gave David his best sly grin as he ran the tip of his tongue across David’s lips, then pressed inside.

“Oh. Oh! Yes, please. Shower, cuddle, then that. I like your agenda for this evening.” David jumped up and grabbed a Gatorade on his way to the bathroom.

Hours later, with two empty bottles of Gatorade and a couple of more dirty washcloths, Patrick wrapped his arm around David’s shoulders.

“Any more firsts, or are we moving on to seconds now?”

Patrick laughed. “We might need a stock up on more Gatorade before seconds. Possibly a carb-load too.” His eyes wandered over to David’s black bag. “Wait, do you always carry lube and condoms with you hoping to get lucky?”

David kissed Patrick’s chest and yawned. “A recent addition. Hoping I would get lucky.”

Patrick fell asleep with a grin on his face.

#

Patrick climbed out of his car at the underground parking of his North York, Toronto, hotel. He popped his trunk and pulled out David’s suitcase. He smiled and sent a silent prayer that it hadn’t been scratched on the trip. Given how much it had probably cost, he should have put it in his front seat and a seatbelt over it.

David’s insistence that a professional business consultant couldn’t stroll up with a duffel bag had been annoyingly adorable. Even more adorable had been David’s look of horror when Patrick had casually mentioned to him he’d put his hiking boots in the suitcase. Of course he hadn’t, but riling David up had become Patrick’s favorite hobby. Well, clothes-on hobby.

Patrick rolled the bag into the elevator going up to the economy business hotel. Several steps up from the Schitt’s Creek motel, but it lacked one important thing: David.

Once he checked in, Patrick went up to his room and dropped the suitcase on the luggage rack. Normally he’d put his bag on the empty bed if he had doubles, but he could hear David’s voice telling him how disgusting the wheels would be and they shouldn’t go on the bed. Being in a hotel room without David sucked. Everywhere he looked, he was assaulted with memories of their time at the yoga retreat, their night in room nine, and the couple of nights they’d stayed at an Elmdale hotel since. The morning after walk of shame when Patrick had encountered Alexis had led to a ground rule about no more trysts at the motel. The past two weeks had been a blur of happiness and really hot sex.

There were days away from opening Rose Apothecary and Patrick was in Toronto for the weekend while David frantically put together finishing touches on the store. Guilt ate away at him. He should be back in Schitt’s Creek helping David, not meeting with someone about another consulting job. He had tried to push the meeting off until the next weekend, after opening, but David wouldn’t hear of it. He hoped the near all-nighter he’d pulled last night to fix the lighting David had forgotten to hire out for would help alleviate some of David’s stress.

Patrick unzipped the suitcase to put his clothes in the drawers. Another habit he’d picked up from David. He flipped open the top, and an envelope greeted him with his name written in handwriting he’d grown very familiar with as he worked closely with David in the store.

His hand shook as he slid his finger under the sealed flap, remembering their intense conversations about Patrick’s weekend away, what it could mean, and that David insisted Patrick take it seriously.

While doing some work at the store yesterday, David had casually said he wouldn’t mind if Patrick decided to have a full gay bar experience in Toronto, but Patrick could see the hesitation in his eyes. It seemed almost robotic. Like David thought he had to offer that as a protective measure against that inevitable action. Like saying it was okay would make it okay for David. Patrick had made it as clear as he could that a gay bar experience without David wasn’t anything he was interested in. David had then told Patrick not to contact him so he could focus on being in Toronto (yeah right, he’d already texted to tell David he’d arrived safely). He’d also told Patrick really try to picture himself in Toronto.

That one was harder to argue with. If he had taken the time and effort to leave Schitt’s Creek for the weekend, he needed to really investigate the opportunity. If he did choose to stay with David, he needed to know he’d chosen it because it’s what he wanted. Not what he’d chosen by default because he didn’t pursue anything else. That was just as important to David as it was to Patrick. There was a part of him that worried he’d been so caught up in David’s orbit and what if being away from him would clear the love haze. That’s how it had always been with Rachel. As soon as he would get some distance from her, he realized how much he needed to stay away. But, David wasn’t Rachel and Patrick didn’t feel the same with David as he did with Rachel.

Patrick thrived in David’s presence. He felt comfortable, happy, loved, protected. He liked who he was with David.

Normally Patrick brought more of the logic and David more of the emotion, but this time David had surprised him with logic he couldn’t argue with. Patrick owed it to himself and David to give the Toronto weekend a shot.

_Patrick,_

_Thank you for finally agreeing to take the suitcase. Don’t you feel more professional already? Since you refused my demand of not contacting me over the weekend and have probably already texted me to tell me you’ve arrived safely, I knew my only weapon was a letter you couldn’t talk back to._

_I’m proud of you. I’m proud of the man you are and the man you will be - whatever path you choose. I will support any decision you make, completely and without hesitation._

_Live it up, big boy. I’ll be here to show you exactly how much I missed you when you get back. Thoroughly. I can’t wait to hear everything about your meeting._

_Okay, my hand is cramping now. I haven’t handwritten this much since high school._

_Love,_

_David_

Love. Patrick’s vision grew watery. David really did care about him. It would be so easy for David to push Patrick to Toronto. To have taken his help in getting the business off the ground, then shoo’d him on his merry way. Used it as an out because things were too intense, and David sometimes struggled with how quickly and deeply they had connected. It would have been so easy. Or to tell Patrick to stay. To convince him that they were meant for each other and neither would be happy unless Patrick stayed in Schitt’s Creek and helped David with Rose Apothecary.

David was doing what wasn’t easy. He communicated openly and showed affection without expectation. He wanted what was best for someone he cared about more than what he wanted for himself. David Rose was an extraordinary man.

Before heading out to explore the neighborhood and meet with his old friend for dinner, Patrick sprawled out on the bed, flashed his most sultry look and sent David a selfie.

You’ll pay for that when you get home.  
  


Home.

#

“I’ve been working in catering for over twenty years and it’s time I stop working for someone else and work for myself.”

Patrick smiled. “I hear that a lot. It takes a great deal of courage to do that. When I follow up with past clients months into their businesses, the number one thing I hear from them is how happy they are since they finally made the leap.”

It would be so easy to work with this woman. She had amazing life experiences and made _killer_ food. So good. Patrick took another bite of the crepe she’d made him.

With talent like that, he knew it would be a breeze to help her set everything up. She’d even already looked into what it would take to start the business. People like her were dream clients.

His mind tried to remind him that she wasn’t David, but he squashed the thought. He focused on what she said and forced himself to let his mind wander and think about what it would be like to work with her. To live in Toronto.

He’d enjoyed wandering the neighborhood last night and had a great time catching up with his friend. It would be easy to start a new life there. Make friends, maybe join a local baseball league, try dating. On paper, it would be easy.

She was clearly competent and would do the things she needed to without Patrick having to remind them twenty times to call the electrician then doing the work himself thanks to some YouTube videos.

“Want to see the flat? You’d have direct access to the kitchen down here if you wanted to grab some food or use the equipment, but the flat has a kitchen too. I tend to make extras and keep them around to snack on.”

Patrick smiled widely. “That sounds like a dream.” David would love that.

He followed her up a narrow set of stairs into an open floorplan flat.

“It’s got a bedroom and separate bathroom down that hallway. Here’s the kitchen and a spacious living room. You could live here for free while we’re working together. It comes with the kitchen rental and I won’t be using it.”

Patrick whistled. It was _amazing_. Spacious, bright, open. He could see he and David cooking breakfasts together and David trying to make out with him as he tried to watch a game.

“If you have a partner or family, they’re welcome to live here too. Pets are allowed as well.”

Could it get any better? If only they could pick up Rose Apothecary and move it to Toronto.

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Life wasn’t easy. It was about making hard decisions and living with the consequences.

It was only a couple of hours to Schitt’s Creek and Patrick would be more than happy to make the drive, but he knew that wouldn’t work in the long run. David would be swamped trying to keep the store afloat by himself and it would be a while before he could afford to hire anyone else. An unfortunate side effect of knowing the business side intimately. If Patrick were to give the focus to this new job that it deserved, he would be too busy to go back and visit David every weekend. They would make it work for a while, but then they’d start skipping weekends. Talk less during the day. Resentment would grow as one had to choose to quit their job to be with the other.

“It would just be me.” Patrick’s chest damn near split open as he said those words.

If he took the job. That “if” grew bigger and bigger the longer he was away from David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is the last main chapter and Sunday is the epilogue! Thanks for sticking with the story this far and for your nice comments <3
> 
> Also, I'm over on Tumblr as  
> [lisamc-21.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lisamc-21)


	19. Chapter 19

David's hands shook as he straightened the jars of cocoa butter for the tenth time.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist. “David, if you took a ruler to those and measured their distance, I think you’ll find they’re perfectly spaced.”

Patrick spun him around and David let out a little squeal, then wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. They stared at each other, neither saying anything. Merely being in Patrick’s presence had a calming effect, which was something David never thought would be possible without enough pills to tranquilize a horse.

“Are you anxious?”

David nodded.

“I can help you relax.” Patrick’s hands slid down David’s waist as he started walking them back to the storage room.

David dug his heels in. “If we go back there, I’m not going to want to come out because I’ll be far too sated to get through opening day, or my anxiety will mix with my clinically devastating attraction for you and I will have a brain aneurism.”

Patrick laughed as he reached up and pressed a tender kiss against David’s lips.

David moaned. “You’re like a Lorazepam.”

“That’s quite the compliment.” Patrick’s tone was teasing but David knew he understood what he meant.

It was so good having Patrick with him for opening day. The past twenty-four hours had flown by in a flash, with Patrick having helped David with the final-final touches after his trip to Toronto.

The anxiety returned tenfold.

“Short acting Lorazepam,” Patrick said as he rubbed circles on David’s back.

David refused to let Patrick know that most of his stress was about the uncertainty of where they stood. Patrick had told David how great the offer was, that David would love the free flat, and that it would be a solid opportunity. That’s it. Nothing about a decision or a timeline or anything.

Maybe he had made a decision, and he was waiting to get through the opening first, so David didn’t have a complete and utter meltdown when the news came.

How could Patrick stay in Schitt’s Creek? He knew how incredible Patrick was at his job - he’d benefited from it first-hand. Keeping him in Schitt’s Creek would be a detriment to society, and David couldn’t handle that kind of burden or guilt. Roses didn’t do guilt.

He kept trying to remind himself to just enjoy the minutes he had with Patrick and he’d be able to remember them later when he would cry in the storeroom between customers when he returned to being a sad, lonely, pathetic man who lived with his sister. And, kinda technically, his parents.

If he had a dollar for every time he thought about closing down the store and offering to go to Toronto with Patrick, he’d have a new designer sweater or two. Deep down, he knew that wouldn’t work either. Patrick knew David too well and knew how important it was for David to see Rose Apothecary through and succeed at something.

David pulled Patrick into a tight hug. He willed the tears to remain at bay and he let himself feel the strength and support of Patrick’s presence. Whatever happened, they would be okay.

Eventually.

Patrick returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. David knew Patrick was hurting and stressed too.

Love was hard.

The corner of David’s mouth quirked up a notch. It was getting easier and easier to think of that word in connection to Patrick. That word used to be a meaningless four-letter thing, but now it carried all of David’s hopes and fears.

A rapid tap on their front door startled David, and he pulled back.

Alexis stood there with a tray of steaming to go cups.

“Oh my God. Seriously?” David’s voice went high pitched.

Patrick rubbed his thumb against David’s cheek and gave him another tender kiss. “She’s brought us caffeine, be nice.”

“Ugh. For you.” David stood and watched Patrick walk over to let Alexis in.

“One for you,” she handed Patrick a coffee. “One for you, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” she handed one to David. “And one for me.”

“Thanks, Alexis. This is nice of you.” Patrick saluted her with his drink.

“Yes, so sweet.” David tried to tamper the sarcasm but failed. “You’re not getting free lip balm.”

“Big day!” She eyed both of them with her usual enthusiasm. “How can I help? Want me on the register?”

“No!” He and Patrick shouted in unison.

“How about answering questions or grabbing one of us if there’s something you can’t answer. Maybe refill the cheese table if it runs low? Only with the stuff in the back in the box marked ‘opening day.’ The other stuff is store inventory.” Patrick was always so reasonable.

“Got it.” Alexis nodded once.

“I’m super proud of you guys. This store is amazing.” She intertwined her arm with David’s and looked up at him. “You did an amazing job, David.”

David used his free hand to wave quickly in front of his eyes. “I swear to God, Alexis, if you make me cry I’m going to throw all of your dresses in the creek.”

“Eww, David! There’re diapers in there! Ugh.”

Once they opened the doors a half an hour later, the first part of the day passed in a flury of answering questions, accepting congratulations, catching Patrick’s eyes and smiling. They were a well-oiled machine in the store. Patrick staying on the register, David on the floor. Occasionally running to the back to sneak a kiss or two.

It was perfect.

Almost perfect.

He wanted to sneak kisses in the back with Patrick forever.

“If Jocelyn and I each go up to buy these together, will we get fifty percent off instead of twenty-five?”

“No.” David frowned at Roland. “Twenty-five percent max.”

Roland and Jocelyn wandered over to the register. Alexis greeted them with a smile. Alexis? Where was Patrick?

Twyla caught David’s attention, and then he was barraged with questions after questions from people about the products. Every time he looked back at the register, Alexis was still there.

“Where’s Patrick,” he mouthed at her at one point when he caught her eye.

She shrugged, then smiled at the next customer.

Patrick had been gone nearly an hour. They hadn’t talked about taking lunch breaks!

Maybe he’d gotten overwhelmed and needed a break.

You okay?  
  


Never better. Running an errand, be right back.  
  


Never better? Pfft. He’d better be getting an appendectomy.

“David! The store is wonderful.”

He spun around to find Wendy going in hot for a hug. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He hoped his smile was as sincere as he felt. She had helped make his dream a reality. She’d brought Patrick into his life. He felt like she deserved a permanent friends and family discount. “And without Patrick.” His body flushed.

She smiled a big, toothy smile at him. A bit too knowingly for his liking. “You two make quite the team. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

David knew she hadn’t been a part of Patrick’s life for that long, but he took the compliment. Savored it. Wrapped it around him to feel warmth like Patrick’s arms. Tucked it away for a rainy day. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“I just wish he wasn’t moving out. I’m going to miss bringing him my famous lasagna.”

David clutched the edge of a nearby table. “Moving out?” His stomach heaved. Learning Patrick’s decision from Wendy hadn’t been among the possible scenarios his anxiety had concocted during the sleepless night.

She nodded, still smiling, as though she had no idea she had just aimed a wrecking ball through his heart.

#

Patrick forced a smile as the last customers of the day wandered around. It took all of his self-control to not to physically push them out of the store so he and David could be alone.

The past few hours had been torture. All the questioning looks and glares David had shot him. They had been so busy that David hadn’t been able to ask where he was. He knew David would be pissed that he left, but he had to. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Patrick’s smile grew more genuine as he thought about the ridiculous reasons David had probably come up with for Patrick’s absence. It was charming.

One thing was for sure, David would never guess where he had gone.

“Will this be everything?” Patrick rang up the purchase for their final guests. As he put their items in a bag, he looked over at David.

The drop of David’s shoulders and lip nibbling told Patrick that David was about as fragile as a thin layer of ice.

“Thanks for coming in on our opening day. We hope to see you again.” Patrick followed them to the door and locked it behind them, flipping the sign to closed.

His mouth grew dry as he turned around to face David.

“You did it, David. You really did it.”

David tucked one hand under his elbow and flipped out his other arm. “I guess so. I mean, technically we did it, Coach.” David’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Patrick took another step toward David. “Today was incredible. You are incredible.”

David turned to face Patrick at the other end of the room. “Thank you,” he said in a soft voice.

His confidence grew with each step. “You had this dream, and you fought for it. You went against other people’s doubts and your own doubts. You fought ghosts from your past.”

David wiped at his eye.

Patrick took another step forward, feeling like he was trying to balance on a high wire. He shoved his hand in his pocket and clutched the box in there like it was his safety net.

“You had a vision, and you saw it through. You compromised, negotiated, and built relationships with people. You created a business that is going to help so many people in this area.”

He was just a couple of feet away from David now. It was clear he was on the edge of a full crying fit. Patrick needed to tread carefully.

“I want to tell you about me now.”

David frowned, but didn’t speak.

“I came to this town to escape the skeletons in my closet, sort of literally. My step-aunt twisted my arm to help some high-maintenance guy with his business. I quickly learned how brilliant, caring and wonderful this man was. This man helped me accept some things about myself that I knew I couldn’t accept on my own.” Patrick took a deep breath. “You have made such a lasting and permanent impression on my life.”

A sob escaped from David’s throat.

“Today was the best day of my life.”

David stared at him, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “How?”

Patrick took another step forward so only inches separated them. “Because I spent the day watching you work.”

David’s frown lines deepened, and his eyes showed fear. He hated making David feel like that, but he needed to get the words out.

Patrick pulled the box from his pocket and handed it to David. “Please open this.”

David carefully tore off the lavender tissue paper to reveal a bandage box.

“Um, thank you?” He said in his shrill tone. “Is this some sort of shitty metaphor to help me bandage my broken heart?”

“I was working quick. Cut me some slack.” Patrick bit his lower lip.

David’s long forefinger lifted the top and pulled out a key.

“Is that an orange cat’s face? Like, the key is the cat’s face?”

Patrick let out a laugh. “As I said, working quick, David.”

“What is it?”

“A key.” Thrill flooded Patrick’s chest at David’s obvious annoyance. Seriously, so fun to mess with.

“I got that. To?” Who knew one syllable could carry so much frustration?

Patrick closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around David’s waist. He reached up for a kiss and spoke against David’s lips. “My new flat in Schitt’s Creek. I wanted you to have a key so you could come over any time you want.”

David’s body shook with a sob. Patrick covered his cheek and neck with kisses as he held David through his crying. Patrick felt tears running down his own face, but he wiped them before they could reach David’s sweater.

“Are you being serious right now?” David managed through the crying.

“As a heart attack.”

David pulled back and dropped the bandage box. He held Patrick’s face in his hands, the key pressing into Patrick’s cheek. “You’re staying?”

Patrick nodded. “Toronto isn’t what I want anymore. That was a dream I used to have, but dreams change. As I watched you in the store today and thought about what my life could be like here with you, I felt the certainty to my bones. Just like I did after our first kiss when I knew there were no doubts that I’m gay. I knew I had to stay. _Wanted_ to stay. My life is here now and I couldn’t be happier.”

David smiled the biggest smile Patrick had the pleasure of witnessing. “Is this where you disappeared to?”

“Yes, I called Ray, and he showed me a cute studio across town. I signed the paperwork, got a key and made you a copy. It was a bit frenzied.”

“I see. So, you gave me the weird cat key, and you kept the normal key?”

“Absolutely. I kept the normal one. Yes.” Patrick’s smile widened.

“So generous of you.”

Patrick lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “I’m a generous guy.”

David pinched his mouth to the side revealing his sexy dimples. “You know, I’m a pretty generous guy myself.”

Patrick’s eyebrow raised.

David leaned down and gently pressed his lips against Patrick’s as Patrick had done to him moments before. “I love you, Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick’s knees nearly gave out, but David steadied him. The breath left his lungs in a whoosh.

After a moment, Patrick pulled back and cupped David’s face. “Say it again. I want to see you say it.”

“I love you. I love you so much.” David said it each time with his eyes open, looking right into Patrick’s eyes. No hesitation.

“I love you more, David Rose.”

David rolled his eyes. “Always a competition with you.”

Patrick could barely catch his breath. David loved him. Loved him!

David kissed the rest of Patrick’s breath away.

After either minutes or hours, David pulled back. “Practical question. Does your new place have a bed yet?”

“Let’s go find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fugly cries* I love them so much. Tomorrow is an epilogue!


	20. Chapter 20

_-Six months later-_

David waved off a customer, then reached under the counter to grab a piece of Rose Apothecary letterhead. He scribbled a quick note and tore off a piece of tape from the dispenser.

_Out to lunch. Back at 2pm._

David grabbed his coat from the back and put it on and swapped his designer shoes for snow boots. Winters in Schitt’s Creek were hellishly cold. He taped the sign on the front door and locked it behind him.

David rounded the corner of Rose Apothecary and ascended the metal stairs at the side of the building to the floor above his business. He twisted the knob of the white door and opened it.

Patrick paused unpacking a box and smiled. Smiled like it was the first day they’d seen each other. Like he’d smiled every day in between. Smiled like a man in love.

“Hi, I’m here seeking business consultancy services for my new business.” David walked into the room.

Patrick turned toward him and placed his hands on his hips. “Oh? What kind of business?”

“Something super sexy. Like, um, logging or livestock.” David made a growl face.

“Livestock?” Patrick laughed. “Have you ever smelled a dairy? Not very sexy.”

“Ew! Work with me, Patrick. It’s a business for super sexy business things.”

Patrick reached out and caught David’s chin, pulling him down for a deep kiss. “I love it when you talk super sexy business things, Mr. Rose.” Patrick pulled David closer until their bodies were flush.

David pulled back and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. “How does it feel to own the newest business in Schitt’s Creek?”

“Pretty good. Let’s hope the other towns can use my consultancy services, otherwise I’ll be back downstairs full time.”

“There are worse things.” David kissed Patrick’s ear. “But I’m sure you’ll stay busy. There are so many people here who need your help since we don’t have the same resources Toronto has.” He kissed Patrick’s nose.

David had had little experience with compromise and putting others first, but Patrick had showed him how. Patrick had insisted on helping David through the opening of his business and stabilizing it. David had insisted on a six-month cap so Patrick could pursue his dream of helping local businesses. When the insurance agency had moved out of the space above David’s store, the timing seemed perfect.

His eyes wandered to the desk behind Patrick. “Aww.” He spotted several framed photos of him and Patrick in the box Patrick was unpacking. He reached across Patrick and pulled one out. “Did you pick out the frames?” He looked at Patrick.

“I did. How’d I do?”

“I’m impressed.” He rummaged a little further and recognized a frame. The one he’d picked out last week when he bought it to frame Patrick’s business license. David put the frame back and faced Patrick, planting a kiss on him, willing him to feel all the love David had in his heart. Pulling back, he grabbed Patrick’s hand. “I was thinking we could take our lunch on the road.”

Patrick looked up at him with his big doe eyes and smiled sweetly. “Sure, babe.”

David led him toward the door and smiled at the yoga mat rolled up and leaning against the wall. One of two Hamish had sent them after David had thanked him for unknowingly playing cupid that weekend. Doing yoga with Patrick was one of his favorite things. Especially what happened sometimes after yoga. “Got your car keys?”

Patrick held them up and gave them a little jiggle. David bit back a smile at the sight of the orange cat key. He loved their little game of sneakily swapping the cat key to Patrick’s studio back and forth. They had so much fun together. Easy fun.

“Where are we going?”

David hoped his voice would come out normal. Patrick had an uncanny ability to read him like a book, and David didn’t want him suspecting anything. “Buchan Farms. I need to pick up an order.”

“Didn’t you get their stuff last week?”

David’s attention stayed on the road. “She’s got something new for us to try.”

“Sounds good.”

David kept his hand on Patrick’s thigh as they drove and chatted about Patrick’s new business, ideas for Rose Apothecary in spring, the latest with Alexis. Easy conversation like they always had. David loved a lot of things about his relationship with Patrick, but the conversation had grown to be one of his favorites. He never imagined how opening up to someone and sharing himself could lead to that level of intimacy. Having someone who knew his life well enough that David could just say, “Mr. Hockney” and Patrick would know everything and how to respond appropriately. He wanted that forever with Patrick.

They arrived at Buchan Farms, and Patrick parked next to the main house.

“I’ll go knock and ask where we need to go to grab the items. Be right back.” David gave Patrick a quick kiss, then opened the car door and braved the cold. His function over fashion snow boots crunched against days old snow as he walked over to the shoveled path.

Within a few minutes he had a gentle hug from Mrs. Buchan, a basket with some of her products, and what he’d come for. He left the house and waved Patrick out of the car. His shoulders began to tighten as he led Patrick to another building on the property. Well, not quite tightening. More like they were tightening because he thought he would be more nervous, so his body was tensing in anticipation of the anxiety. His time with Patrick’s care, acceptance, and love had helped him identify the difference between that and actual anxiety. As his trust and relationship with Patrick, Stevie, and his family developed, David’s anxiety had come knocking less often. Most of the time it was a ghost of what he expected would make him anxious.

“What’s the basket for?” Patrick wrapped his gloved hand over David’s as he held the basket handle.

“Lunch. Mrs. Buchan was, um, grateful we could make it out here and save her a trip in the snow.”

“That was nice of her.” Patrick was so sweet. So loveable.

David led them to a building about half the size of Mrs. Buchan’s house that sat separate from the outbuildings and main house. It was secluded. The small building had a porch in the front with a two-person swing. Several inches of snow lined the top of the porch railing. The soft yellow paint was not in David’s preferred aesthetic, but neither was sharing a motel room with his sister. Sometimes compromises were in order. The white trim and door were okay.

David used his free hand to unlock the door with the key Mrs. Buchan had given him.

“Is this someone’s house?” Patrick asked as he gave the porch swing a small push. He smiled at it. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”

David held his breath as he watched the simple action. Patrick looked up at him and his smile widened. David couldn’t resist giving him a quick and passionate kiss. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Oh?” Patrick’s brows lifted and his impossibly large eyes grew even bigger.

David pushed open the door and walked inside. He located a light switch and flipped it on to better show the space. A small yet comfortable living room flowed into a dining space and open kitchen. It was welcoming and he could see he and Patrick cooking breakfasts, watching rom-coms, having game nights.

“This is nice. Is the product in here?”

“Mm.” David placed the basket on the kitchen island, and walked through the empty home, pretending to look for some boxes.

“This is a cute place. It kind of reminds me of the first house my parents and I lived in when I was a kid.”

David momentarily closed his eyes and smiled. That’s exactly what he’d wanted to hear. He’d never seen the place, but Patrick had talked about it fondly several times. The porch swing had featured prominently in his tales, along with a large backyard for family cook-outs.

David grabbed Patrick’s hand and led him to the back door. They looked through the windows in the mud room. “Good space for barbeques?”

Patrick gave David’s hand a squeeze. “Definitely. That’s a great backyard.”

David took a steadying breath and turned to face Patrick. He removed his gloves and grabbed Patrick’s hands. He looked into Patrick’s eyes. Eyes that had been the constant force in his life for the best months of his life. “I’m glad you like it.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

When it came to romantic gestures, Patrick always knew exactly what to say and do. Sometimes David felt like his relationship with Patrick was a series of romantic gestures. David wasn’t as naturally romantic, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to work at it, so Patrick felt as cherished by David as David did by Patrick.

“I love you and I love our sleepovers at your place, but I want more than that. I want to argue over the best way to load the dishwasher and where the laundry hamper goes. I want to wake up extra early and wake you with your favorite tea. I want to find places to hide our Christmas gifts from each other. I want to sit in that porch swing with you at the end of a long day and drink wine while we hold hands. I want- I want to live with you.”

Patrick’s eyes were wet. “You do?”

“More than anything. Easiest decision of my life.” David beamed under the light of Patrick’s megawatt smile. “And I kinda want to keep you around forever. Living together seems like a good step toward that. At least to me.” Any tension in his body fled at the warm smile on Patrick’s face. Patrick made it easy to be open with him.

David nibbled on his lower lip as Patrick pulled him into a hug. He buried his face into the scarf wrapped around Patrick’s neck. “Zero pressure. Just because I’m ready for it doesn’t mean you have to be. When I picked up the order last week, Mrs. Buchan mentioned her daughter and son-in-law moved out of the second home on her property, and she wondered if I knew anyone looking for a place to rent. She showed it to me, and I could see us here. Building our life together. Saving for our own home. Maybe planning a wed—”

Patrick shifted and pulled David into a searing kiss. The wetness on Patrick’s cheeks dampened David’s, or maybe it was the other way around. Their tongues danced together as their hands roamed each other’s bodies. “Yes. Let’s move in together,” Patrick whispered against David’s lips.

David cupped Patrick’s face in his hands. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hamper goes next to the dresser.” Patrick kissed David’s jaw.

“Silverware goes in the dishwasher with the handle up.”

“I can agree to that. What about your clothes?” Patrick trailed kisses down his neck.

“There’s a second bedroom. I was thinking clothes racks, yoga mats, and a guest bed for when your parents come to town or Stevie comes over to drink?”

Patrick pulled back and wrapped his arms around David’s waist. “I love you, David.”

David rested his forehead against Patrick’s. “I’m grateful every day that you do. I love you more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for making it through my first fic! I've really appreciated the comments and kudos as I've been posting the chapters. I'm nearly done with my next one and hope to start posting it in a week or so :)
> 
> And special thanks to the wonderful [Deenerann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deenerann) for steering me toward reading and writing fic this summer. When you find joy during a pandemic, you seize it, you know?


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